Ghosts and Goblins
by JadziaVu
Summary: A decade after triumphantly returning from the Underground, Sarah struggles to keep her psyche and her spiraling world intact. When a particularly dangerous night of indulgence leads to a close call with her demise, she makes a desperate wish that will change everything. Not least of all herself.
1. The Baptism

**Author's Note: I've been hanging onto this story for** ** _ages_** **! It feels good to finally have the time, energy, and confidence to get it out on paper. I have to give a shout out to Ellen Weaver for her Labyrinth Story, 'The Demon's Valentine: Fairest in the Land II'. It's available on and an INCREDIBLE read, highly recommended! It inspired me to go ahead and let this story out of my imagination bank, so THANKS Ellen!** **J**

 **As always, reviews are both appreciated and encouraging. I welcome your input, and since I am my own editor, please do let me know if there are any significant errors to be corrected and I shall do so.**

 **I enjoy writing my chapters along to a background song or soundtrack, if you will. Most of my other stories had a various mixture of artists, but I'm seriously leaning toward making this into a single-band story. I'm not even that big of a heavy metal fan, but Maria Brink's voice is awe inspiring to say the least, so I'd like to open with the song:**

 ** _['Oh, Lord' by In This Moment]_** **-Thanks and enjoy!**

The abrupt screech-like shriek of talons on glass woke Sarah with a start, huffing and wiping drool and smeared lipstick from her crusty cheek. Her bloodshot eyes darted to the window, squinting at the delicate bobbing of a bare branch dancing in the cool early-spring breeze. The back of her arm wiped clumsily at her leaking nose and she pressed up from the cold hard floor onto her trembling arms to glance over her shoulder at the glowing digital clock perched on the bar of the kitchen: 2:34pm. With a grimace she pulled herself up into sitting, already feeling the dull ache setting into her joints. Regardless of the substantial puddle that had collected on the floor beneath her mouth as she nodded off, her mouth was parched and dry. She smacked her dehydrated tongue against the roof of her mouth, rubbing her mascara-stained eyes with both hands.

"Mngh…fuck…" she groaned. The sickness was already pullulating. She approximated that she had only a few precious hours to get something into her system before she went full blown chills and leg cramps. Closing her eyes she reached into her jacket, still donned from the night before, and pulled free the packet of Camels. She tapped at the butt of the package only to find a single spare remaining inside. "Damn." Her fingers dug within the container, brought the filter of her last cigarette to her lips, and tossed the useless carrying vessel aside as she began digging for a lighter.

"Where are you, you little…" she mouthed, muffled over the object between her lips. Her long dark hair swung over her shoulders, tangled and wreaking of weed.

A snort from across the living room of the small apartment caught her attention and she turned her focus to find another crumpled body coming back to life on the other side of the couch. He groaned, scratching the invisible insects plaguing his skin as he sat up and met her green eyes with his blue ones.

"Time is it?" he inquired.

"Gotta light?"

He yawned, palming the breast pocket of his shirt to find his zip lighter and toss it at her. She missed the catch and it went skidding across the floor, inertia impeded by the kitchen table. Sarah groaned, staring over at it as if to resolve whether it would be worth it to crawl the three feet across hard floor to retrieve it. Another scratch at the window drew her eyes to the branch outside, though she fully expected to find the large obsidian orbs of a snowy owl staring back at her, appraising her with judgment in its unblinking gawk. For now, though, there was only the branch. Taking a deep breath, she willed her painful limbs to make the horrible trek on all fours to pick up the lighter and ignite the cigarette now becoming soggy between her teeth. Oh, sweet relief.

Adam sat scratching his curly, black-haired scalp for a long while before snorting loudly and swallowing an audible squishy sound down in that unsettling way Sarah always hated. She made a face and took another long drag off her cigarette.

"Time is it?" he asked again, scratching at his elbow.

She raised her eyebrows and flicked ashes casually onto the floor, "Time to make some money, my friend."

He nodded in absolute agreement, scratching at his chest now. "You got any?" She shook her head. "No, I mean you got any junk?" he clarified.

She shook again, causing him to groan in annoyance. His weaseling irritated her, probably even more so now that her stomach was beginning to ache. He had always been such a useless mooch, but the man had connections to some of the best stuff in town. She made a mental note that it might be in her best interest to work on networking and charisma in her near future.

Sarah reached up and gripped the edge of the table, leveraging herself to finally rise to a wavering standing position before making her way to the kitchen. She opened the small fridge whose light had long since burned out, but she didn't need it. There were only two things in the cool space and only one of which she cared anything about at the moment. Her burgundy-stained lips held the filter of her cigarette as she pried open the bottle of Patron. She hadn't even gotten a swig in before the weasel was calling in from the living room, "Ooohey, can I have some?" She rolled her eyes, drew the last drag of her cigarette, flicked it into the sink, and took a long pull from the bottle before staggering into the adjacent living room to hand it down to the bum on her floor.

"I need a shower before we head out" she said, causing him to grin slyly. "And no. You can't join me."

He frowned at that, lifting his chin to fill his gullet with her tequila. There had been a handful of times that she was just desperate enough to score, but broker than a joke, that she had let him have his weasely little way with her. Luckily, his stamina was something to mock so it didn't have to last too long. Not like Mike. That man took entirely too long to get the job done. Thankfully too, she had always been too drunk, or high, or both to really remember too much about it.

Sarah Williams was a knock out, as she had often been reminded, and she used it easily to her advantage when the absolute necessity arose. As she made her way to her dingy bathroom, starting up the hot water and peeling the clothes from her stinging flesh, she thought tonight might just turn out to be one of those nights. She hadn't had any heroin in nearly two days and the Oxy, weed, and booze were no longer keeping her withdrawals at bay. She needed a fix before the sickness set in too deep and she couldn't even tolerate getting out to find one.

Billowing steam warmed her sore bones, soothing the churning burn in the pit of her stomach. Anxiety began creeping in, however, ruining the splendid bliss of the relaxing moment. Quickly, she cleaned her body, washed her elbow-length hair, and scrubbed the remains of her makeup from the previous night. If she was going to find some poor fool to share his prized bag with her tonight, she'd need to look enticing enough to seduce a junky. Not an easy thing to do when their first and only love was the fix. She'd always been successful in the past, though, so her intentions were riding on that for tonight.

The preening process was near agony. Brushing, blow-drying, curling, dressing, powdering, lining, plucking, shaving. Damn, she despised womanhood sometimes. But the ending result in the mirror brought a satisfied grin to her face as she checked herself from all angles, tousling the roots of her thick strands a bit before heading back into the living room where Adam was busying his thumbs on the keypad of his phone. No doubt he was frantically texting everyone in his contacts to find them a score for the night.

"So, you're broke?" he asked, only just now turning his attention to her. "Whoa. You look…yummy."

Her carefully chosen ensemble was meant to exude an heir of unattainable confidence, yet entice just enough for any lucky buyer to proceed with hopeful intrigue. The winner would be anyone who could get her what she needed for the night. Low riding jeans hugged the curves of her hourglass figure, tapering downward to hide beneath her black, knee-high, pleather riding boots. The cobalt blue corset top was given a classy touch by the black jacket which overhung her feminine shoulders, ending just above her waist to accentuate her inviting contours.

"Come on Sarah", the weasel whined, reaching out a shaky hand for her thigh. "It's been like forever, right? Come on, I promise I won't mess your hair up."

His pleading was beginning to rake her skin harder than usual, exposing the already raw nerves underneath. Her leg kicked at him, missing just barely, "Stop it! Now, hurry up and let's go.

He pouted, pulling his pudgy frame up to stand next to her slender one with a bit of a wobble, "Alright fine. I don't know if I could get it up, anyhow. Fuckin' stomach hurts."

Sarah's arm was shaking the empty bottle of Patron as she eyed him unforgivingly, "Maybe it's because you're an overindulgent freeloader."

"Hey! I'm trying real hard to get you high tonight, alright? Stop being such a selfish bitch!"

The clenched muscles of her jaw protruded beneath her flawless, pale, and lightly freckled skin, and she chewed nervously at the scar inside her left cheek, "Sorry. Let's just go already, I'm really starting to feel it, okay?"

She set the empty bottle on the couch and the pair ventured out into the frigid air, sunlight cutting at their corneas and chastising them for worshiping the night. They clamored into Adam's ten-year-old, beat up, black Buick. He started the engine as Sarah donned a pair of large sunglasses to ease the piercing assault on her eyes.

"Ah man", he groaned, backing the vehicle out of the parking lot in front of her low-income apartment. "Imma definitely have the shits today."

Her top lip curled in disgust, "Take some Imodium."

"No way, man! Sam did that last month and ended up in the hospital, impacted as hell."

She rolled her eyes at him again, "That's because Sam's an imbecile and thought he could avert the withdrawals by taking fifteen of them."

"Really?" His interest peaked. "Does that work?"

Her head rested back against the seat, half willing his skull to explode, "Clearly not."

Irritated wouldn't be an accurate enough description for the way Adam made Sarah feel when she was around him, but there was some unwritten code somewhere which declared junkies should travel in packs. She had to admit she became desperately lonely when he wasn't around, and then the depression would emerge. And when that happened…

Her eyes darted back to the tree where the leafless branch swung gently, framed by the rectangular glass which created the living room window to her tiny apartment. The sightings, as she and herself had chosen to brand them, happened less when she was distracted. And what better distraction than drugs, alcohol, and sex to keep her mind off the bleak truth of what her life had become since she made that one fatal mistake ten years ago.

One fucking mistake. One stupid wish. Who in their right mind could have ever envisioned that it could actually come to fruition? Which was exactly the argument all those damned psychiatrists and hypno-therapists had maintained. She was out of her right mind. A lunatic. And what's more, her parents no longer even trusted her around her own brother. The brother she had risked her very life to rescue and protect from her miscalculated error! She had been honest about the bruises and scrapes on his arms and belly upon returning from the Underground. Hell she had them, too! She'd never harm her brother, she loved him. But one stupid mistake had cost her the trust of her parents and earned her the next year in therapy. When that proved unsuccessful by evidence of her adamant retellings of the events in the Labyrinth, she earned another two years in an institution. Psychiatric drugs dulled her senses, making it easier to ignore the sightings, but they never ceased all together. The flash of a white wing here, the whip of a flowing cape there, the peripheral silhouette of someone watching her from the shadows until she would look their way, then they were gone.

Upon turning eighteen, her parents no longer had power over her. It was her choice to stay at the institution or leave. Of course, she had chosen freedom and was surprised to find that it came with their blessing. Her stepmother, Irene, had pulled the reigns tight on her father over the years, and any discussions made about Sarah's future were heavily scrutinized and shoved into a suffocating box where the girl knew she would never fit. Heads butted, sometimes violently, and eventually the young woman had conceded to the notion that she would never measure up to her parent's, mainly Irene's, expectations. Anti-psychotics were discharged to alcohol. Alcohol invited cigarettes and marijuana. Booze and drugs dipped into liquor and harder drugs. And then there was heroin.

Oh sweet, blessed heroin. Beautiful white or brown powder, or black and sticky sweet, either way she loved it. Injected, snorted, eaten, she didn't care as long as it was inside her, making her feel liberated and at peace. The sightings even became less of a bother. She'd nod off, chuckling lazily at them, talking to them. Taunting them. Taunting _him_. Provoking his cruelty. She wanted to see it, wanted to feel it. He lurked from the shadows where she had reposed him and he could do no more. He had no power over her, and at times, she could feel his rage heavy and thick in the air like pressure swelling antecedent to a great thunderstorm. She'd cry his name out at orgasm with various nameless partners, knowing he was watching. Always watching. Occasionally she'd request the meekest of wishes, a mere insult to his immense power. She'd toy with him over things like parking spaces or mild weather changes. But not drugs, never drugs. That was hers in her life to control and she'd never let him will influence over it. As revenge, he would torment her in her dreams; sometimes cruel and terrifying, sometimes erotic and frustratingly dissatisfying. He'd bring her to the peak of ecstasy, and then let her fall, waking to an abrupt cold reality as her climax ebbed away from her grasp. He'd never physically touched her, she assumed he was unable to, but his electric presence would ghost over her body like static clinging to her hair, leaving trails of goosebumps and trembling limbs in its wake. There were times she even swore she could feel the subtle beating of hot breath on the skin of her neck, her breasts, and once, even over her uncovered sex as she slept alone and naked in her bed. Clandestinely, she had grown to desire that he _could_ touch her. This was their game, their hell, and it seemed they would suffer in it together forever.

Much like her companions, she had finally managed to lie, cheat, steal, and alienate herself into banishment by her family. The only part about it that hurt was her severance from Toby. She truly wanted to be there for him, watching him grow. Occasionally she would receive a random picture via mail or text, the latest being his tenth birthday. She was not even welcomed to attend, and so her loneliness grew, abated only by the tools and other empty souls at her immediate disposal.

"You gotta work tonight?" Adam's question pulled her from her thoughts about her little brother. How she longed to hear his sweet voice. Mistakes and all, Toby loved her like no one else could, without question or obligation. She missed him more than anything.

"No."

"Damn", he elbowed her lightly in the shoulder. "Let me know. I'll come to your next show for sure."

"Your ongoing support is moving", she responded with monotone facetiousness in her voice.

'Show' was a nice way to say 'striptease', and she was neither proud of nor ashamed by her profession. It allowed her to make money easily with very little skill other than her own genetically fortunate features. She was free to support her drug habit and even arrive having used said drugs to her shifts. As long as she was still sexually appealing to the audience and creating cash-flow, the owners didn't care if she clocked in tripped out of her fucking mind. She had initially been hired as a waitress, but following the many vocal requests by important regulars of the club, she had been easily promoted to the stage. It had taken some private lessons from the other girls to get some rhythm under her, but now she was unstoppable. Her stage name: Alice. Some nights she wondered if she might ever find her way back down the rabbit hole again.

Adam's phone dinged, and taking his eyes precariously from the road, he checked the text message with a satisfied sigh, "Nick's gonna have us some stuff tonight. Sweet."

Sarah felt a tug of relief beneath the pain and nausea growing inside. She may well feel like death warmed over for now, but tonight she would feel like all was right with the world. A goddess on Earth. Alive. She needed it like she needed to breathe.

"When and where?" she dug impatiently for details.

"Says there's gonna be a party at his place later, but we go ahead and come over if we want."

Of course they could. Nick had been after Sarah for weeks, and she was resigned to believe that tonight might just be his lucky night. She was broke, achy, and anxious about the impending symptoms still yet to come. Only once had she tried to survive an entire bout of withdrawals until the end. It was like dying backwards.

Nodding, she unzipped the small clutch in her hand and pulled free the burgundy lipstick that was her staple color, "Let's go, then."

Less than half an hour later, they were parked outside the townhome where Nick shared rental space with two other male roommates. They were all about four years younger than Sarah, and doing their damndest to stay in college per their parent's demands. How they managed to scrape grades, work part-time, and bake, snort, or shoot up in their free time, she had no clue. But they were safe. It was a relatively decent part of town and they all used safe needle practices, justification enough in her mind to settle in for the night and get high out of her mind. Besides that, Nick wasn't a bad looking guy; about 5'11", sandy blonde hair cut short on the sides and longer on the top, runner's build, and brown eyes. He was nice. Boring, but nice.

"Sarah, hey." He smiled at her as he opened the front door. "Come on in."

"Hi Adam", Adam retorted with amused annoyance as he stepped in behind her, "Nice to see you, Adam."

Nick nodded, smacking him lightly on the back, "Yeah, hi Adam." He leaned in to his ear as they watched Sarah head through the living room to the kitchen. "Thanks for bringing her along."

"You do know she's only looking for a fix, right?"

Nick shrugged, "And I'm only looking for a good time. I'll consider it a fair trade."

Sarah shuffled through cabinets, finding a tall clean glass to fill with tepid tap water and guzzle it down greedily. She was catching her breath when Nick's hand slid along the side of her waist.

"Thirsty much?" he grinned at her. She returned it. "Can I get you something else to drink? We've got some Coors Lite and other stuff."

She grimaced, "Coors? Really?"

His smile widened with a shrug, "Hey, college kid, remember?"

She chuckled lightly, "Okay fine. If I can get through the first bottle, I usually can't even taste the subsequent ones."

Releasing her with a purposeful glide of his hand down her side, he yanked open the refrigerator door which came unstuck with a sound akin to Velcro ripping away from its cling. His hand retrieved two amber bottles and he twisted the top off each, handing her one. She took it, they clinked necks with a silent toast, and each took their first swig.

"So, I hear you need to party", he mentioned, casually resting his hip against the counter.

She mirrored him and shrugged in an attempt to appear nonchalant about the erupting need beginning to bubble beneath her skin, "I could use a little something to help me relax."

Taking step toward her, Nick closed the distance between them and lowered his voice, glancing over his shoulder to ensure his words passed intimately between just the two of them, "I got some sticky black up in my room. Probably enough for two people."

Her chest felt like it would split apart, but she maintained her cool composure, "Lead the way."

Adam was settled into the couch as they passed through the living room on the way to the stairs, Nick pulling Sarah lightly along by her hand. Their mutual friend was cutting white powder with a razor as the other two roommates looked on with anticipation in their eyes. Nick's bedroom was what Sarah had expected from a twenty-one year old living on his own. Beach babes in bikinis littered the walls on glossy posters and the unkempt sheets of his twin sized bed hung over the edge of the mattress, melting onto the floor where a few pairs of shoes and worn clothes had been tossed here and there. He released her hand to make a full hearted attempt at tidying up as she stood in his doorway, coyly curling a few strands of hair between her burgundy-painted fingertips. While the game of female seduction made her feel utterly ridiculous, she had learned how easy it could be to manipulate the environment around her using the promise of her full lips and the subtle sway of her hips. The fresh prickle of electricity licked her skin and she felt the strands of soft hair on her forearms stand on end. A silky grin tugged the corner of her mouth. _He_ was growing displeased with her. She could almost taste his jealousy in the air. It was cruel and dark, deliciously tantalizing.

"What's so funny?" Nick asked, studying her features.

She redirected her faltering attention back to him, smiling brightly, "Nothing. You're just cute, is all."

A faint pink flush spread over his neck and he scratched the nape of hair at the base of his blonde scalp, chuckling lightly, "Ahm…thanks?"

The shoes and a few articles of dirty clothing had been tossed haphazardly into the corner nearest his desk where he was now accessing his computer for some airy background music he felt suitable for seduction. Sarah looked on with the façade of patience, but inside, she was screaming. Thankfully, his next move appeared to prove that he had decided to appease her addiction first and pleasure her later. Tit for tat. Or perhaps it was tat for tit in this case? The clear plastic bag of black tar was retrieved from the desk drawer along with a few necessities for preparing and enjoying said delicacy. Sarah felt her mouth water.

Taking a seat on the bed, he lifted a chin at her, "Come here."

She obeyed, doing her best not to appear so eager. When she was seated, he reached a hand to softly palm her cheek, drawing her slowly toward him for a long drawn kiss that was heavy with tongue. "God damn you're beautiful", he whispered onto her mouth. She could tell it took a great deal of will power to pull himself out of the kiss and refocus onto the tools on his lap; a stained and well used spoon, a lighter, two syringes, and a piece of elastic banding. If she wasn't interested in him before, watching Nick prepare her favorite thing in the world suddenly made him appear extremely appealing. Holding the first syringe in the air, he tapped the air from it gently before eyeing her.

"Would it be okay if I asked you to push for me?" he asked her expectantly.

Sarah grinned at him, taking the injection device in her fingers. He stood, turning slowly to square off with here where she still sat on the edge of the mattress, his fingers fumbling with his belt, button, and zipper.

"Are we changing the subject?" she asked casually.

He laughed with a mild heir of embarrassment, "I can't afford to have my parents finding tracks when they come up this weekend. The groin is fine unless…"

Okay, he really was pretty adorable. The way he shifted there like that, uneasy and already hard just looking at her. Keeping her gaze on his eyes, she slowly reached into the taunt fabric of his boxers and released the trapped and now hungrily throbbing prize within. He sucked air in through his teeth and she could see his breathing rate increase in his chest. Just for fun, she leaned forward and planted an affection kiss directly on the tip, making him moan quietly. Her eyes left his to glance down at the impressive shaft nestled comfortably within her fist, the perfect dorsal vein threading its length and giving her a place to penetrate him with the waiting needle. She could tell he struggled between disappointment and excitement when she did not proceed with the oral teasing, but any complaint he might have soon faded as the drugs infiltrated his system. He became overwhelmed with euphoric relaxation, and as she pulled the empty syringe free, he leaned over her to kiss her deeply with another moan. Her hand squeezed around his shaft and he panted her name.

As aroused as she was admittedly becoming as well, she was far more interested in her own high and broke from him to reach for the other ready syringe. He reached as well, beating her to it. They smiled at one another, his features a bit more lazy and glazed over than hers, and he took a seat next to her to kiss at her neck. Tilting her chin back, she gave him better access as he peeled her jacket from her shoulders, exposing the length of her slender arms. Wet kisses traveled down her skin, trailing a path to the fossa of flesh at the bend in her elbow. She handed him the elastic band and he tied it around her arm, smacking the skin with his fingertips until one of her only remaining veins on that arm perked up for him. The prick of needle on skin sent a rush of excitement through her just before the flood of warmth ran through every inch of her body, killing off the aching, the sickness, and the unbearable anxiety instantaneously.

Nick tossed the syringe aside carelessly and gripped the back of Sarah's this hair, pulling her back in for a crushing kiss. She returned his efforts, tongues tangling one another as they both allowed their hands to travel over clothing and skin, though the clothing was only a hindrance for another few short moments. Soon, they were clumsily clamoring over one another on the bed, beads of sweat beginning to lubricate the flesh to flesh contact.

He was pushing her thighs apart with his knees when she stopped him, "Condom?"

"Oh", he breathed. "Right, right."

Rolling off of her, he dug through the desk drawer again and returned with the small square of rubber, working at the packaging between his teeth. She was doing her best to remain alert and in the moment, but her eyelids were so heavy she could already feel her consciousness nodding out. With a great effort, she willed her eyes to open again only to find that Nick had already succumb to his own ecstasy. He lay dozing on his back next to her, completely naked, condom package dangling from his lips. She giggled breathlessly and lay her head back down, letting the blissful darkness take her.

In her dreams, _he_ was waiting for her. Not Nick. Jareth. She saw the blurred outline of his face come to focus before her, a strange sense of concern on his features. He was saying something to her, shaking her. It felt as if everything moved in slow motion, like she was being swept over by the harsh abuse of unrelenting waves in a vast ocean. She could resurface consciously for only mere moments at a time before the darkness pulled her under again. Each time she emerged, he was there, calling her name, pleading.

 _What is he saying?_

"You…to….you have…Sarah, please…Sarah you have to say it…help you…I can't help you unless you say the words…Please!"

Gasping, she tried to gather the words to ask him what in bloody hell he was going on about, but she couldn't catch her breath. She couldn't breathe. Oh god, she couldn't breathe! The waves were beating her, taking her under, suffocating her in blackness like the weight of a thousand tons on her chest.

"Repeat after me, Sarah", she heard his voice bleed through the emptiness. "I wish you would save me!" He shook her violently. "I wish you would save me!"

Her lips mouthed at the words, but she couldn't form them. She felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room, and her chest, how it ached like she had been run through with a blade straight through her heart.

"SARAH!" the scream was deafening, like he was echoing inside her very brain.

It was startling enough to shock a sharp intake of breath into her, barley deep enough for her to gurgle out the words, "I wish…you would save…me…"

The next sensation she was aware of was a terrible plummeting feeling in the pit of her stomach, the way one would feel on the first large drop off of a rollercoaster. The darkness whirled around her in shades of grey, cold air assaulting her naked flesh. She was vaguely aware of the sudden halt in movement, and the moist tickle of damp ground beneath her limbs as consciousness continued to ebb in and out. She still couldn't breathe. Jareth stood over her, peeling the clothes from his body frantically. Initially, she assumed he intended to rape her in her vulnerable state, but as he leaned down toward her, she felt his arms find purchase beneath her knees and shoulders, hoisting her into the air. Only flashes of these events came to her, like images revealed by a strobe light in a dark room. He was sprinting, carrying her in his arms to some destination ahead where his focus lay. Her head became intolerably heavy and lulled back, opening her neck to the sky as her skull hung and bounced in suspended air.

Senses began dulling.

She was fading.

Sinking.

Drifting down beneath the waves.

No air.

No light.

Her limbs touched cold liquid.

Then pain, sudden and tremendous, the worse pain she had ever felt in her entire life. Her body felt shattered, made of glass that had fractured into a million pieces never to be whole again. The jolt shocked her failing system, tricking it into inhaling. Her lungs consumed the oxygen, filling and expanding to near combustion before releasing a horrendous ear-piercing shriek. The remainder of her body, including her head, was submerged into the frigid water. Bubbles escaped her mouth and retreated to the surface where they boiled and rolled as she continued to scream. A force drew her back up from the water and her lungs took another sharp intake of air, muscles involuntarily contracting to relinquish another blood-curdling scream. Again she was dipped, down into the icy depths where her screams were smothered and her body was ripped to shreds. It wasn't until she was pulled from the water the last time that she became aware of her conscious surroundings. The pain ceased just as quickly as it had began and she panted heavily, near hyperventilating to catch her breath.

 _['Goddess Moon' by In This Moment]_

Jareth held her close to his chest, both of them naked and soaked to the bone in the intolerably icy water. Her wide eyes and panic-stricken cries called out his name even though he stood flush against her. He smoothed the long wet strands of her hair back and tilted her chin up to him, stroking her face, voice trembling over the plumes of moisture fogging the air from his breath, "Shh-shh-shh. You're okay. You're alright." He sounded more as though he were convincing himself rather than her. The only light around them was reflected from the full moon above, dancing and illuminating the ripples of the great black lake where they stood, she trembling violently and sobbing forcefully, cradled in the arms of her Goblin King.


	2. The Contract

Sarah's eyelids parted of their own volition, pupils constricting gently against the faint light dancing across the grey masonry ceiling above her. She blinked, rolling her eyes in their sockets and scanning the unfamiliar space. Her arms and legs were bound, delicately swaddled together within a thick wool blanket and topped with a fur coverlet that tickled her neck. Sweat was pooled in the small of her back and the various creases of her naked skin. She turned her head on the soft feather pillow, taking notice of a roaring fire undulating within a hovering oval hearth in the middle of the large stone room. It floated with blatant disregard for the laws of gravity, swaying ever so gently on its invisible suspension. The flames licked one another in a ticklish rhythm of incandescent pink and purple hues, rising from a stark black core that glimmered and writhed like glittering ooze. Rather than wood as its energy source, the strange heat grew upward from a pool of rippling water held at the base of the floating brass oval. Sweat from Sarah's forehead trickled down the side of her face and she grimaced, struggling within her confines to break loose. One slender arm slid free, followed easily by the other, and she sat up on the bed to further consider her surroundings. It was clearly a bedchamber, fitted decently with beautiful works of hand carved wooden art which served as elements for storing articles of clothing and other personal effects. The bed was an enormous four posted island of fine goose down and cotton sheets. It smelled strangely familiar yet completely new, like something out of a dream, or a memory of a memory.

She turned her head to view the ornate tapestry which overhung a table littered in golden bowels of foreign fruit. It was then that she noticed Jareth seated in the furthest corner. He ignored her, lounging sideways on his extravagant chair, one long leg hanging over the arm rest, the other bare foot on the hard floor, twisting and examining a small glass vial indifferently between his fingertips. The backing of the furniture extended far above his head, dark wood hand carved to interweave and flourish in captivating design. Its center was comfortably padded and upholstered with crushed purple velvet that looked pleasing to the skin. He was completely bare except for the pair of black snug-fitting tights he wore, accentuating certain contours she remembered from long ago, intimidating then and tantalizing now. Other than that intimate detail, he looked nothing the way she remembered him. Having only seen the fleeting glimmer of his shadow for ten years she had nearly forgotten his striking features all together, but he had most certainly changed.

His wild platinum hair had grown long and was tamed down into a thick ponytail which flowed silkily over his muscular shoulder, ending at the level of his nipple. The underside was shaved down very short around the edges and back, and brief sideburns kissed the skin just anterior to each ear. His glamorous eye makeup had been exchanged for a simple yet striking matte black strip covering the eyes and bridge of the nose, extending just to the hairline on either side like a Cherokee's painted war mask. The harsh contrast further deepened the intensity of his mismatched eyes as they scanned the object of interest in his possession. He looked ready for war.

"What is that?" She asked, vying more for his attention than actual curiosity. The notion surprised her. For so many years she had fought to keep his unrelenting presence a mere shadow of her psyche, and now here she she sat, eagerly seeking dialogue from his solid form. His arm flicked quickly, the way one would toss a Frisbee, and the object flew suddenly across the room to ping her square between her exposed breasts. "Ouch!" she yelped, rubbing her assaulted skin. "What the hell?"

"Do you have any conception how tremendous a burden carrying something like that around with you for six years can be?" His words came sharp and callous. He stared at the wall of his corner seat, refusing her his focus as if he somehow knew it was what she wanted.

Her dark brows furrowed and she fished the object from the fur blanket still wrapped around her legs to examine its label: Naloxone. The lines on her face softened and she returned her gaze to him, "You're angry with me."

"I'm exhausted" he retorted quickly.

"Yes, yes, quite cross", she mumbled under her breath, mocking the tone of his accent. She heard him give a disapproving snort, but otherwise remained silent. Pushing the covers further down, she kicked and rolled until her sweaty skin was free of its excessive heat. Open nudity in his presence was quite comfortable for her. She had been exposed to him mind, soul, and body for a decade and their semi-flirtatious metaphysical interactions over the years had effectively drowned out any embarrassment or modesty she might possibly feel. The air was a welcomed relief to her flushed skin and she lay back in the bed, closing her eyes while the beads of moisture began to evaporate and cool her down. "Why did you save me?" She could feel his eyes on her without opening hers. Somehow their non-tactile connection ran that deep.

"You asked me to", he responded in a rather defeated tone.

Crunching up, she placed her elbows into the bed to support her upper half, catching his blazing stare, "You asked me to ask you to."

His eyes were piercing, "You'd rather I left you for dead?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then say what you mean and mean what you say, for what is said is said."

"Don't get all Mad Hatter on me, Jareth, you've been carrying Naloxone!"

"To keep you from becoming a statistic!"

"Because you somehow knew I would just fuck up someday?"

Their voices grew louder with each retort, gazes challenging, and body language becoming stiff and unyielding. Sarah stood from the bed and marched on bare feet midway to where he sat. "You spend ten years pushing me to the brink and then want to pull me back from the edge just as I begin fall so you can be my hero? Well, fuck you!"

He stood as well, needing only two long-legged strides to tower over her, mere inches from her face. "Don't try to punish me for your poor choices, Sarah, I've paid for them already."

She scoffed up at him, "What the fuck does _that_ mean?"

"Still a selfish brat, I see."

"Still an insufferable ass!"

"I thought you'd changed after the Labyrinth. I offered you the world in your palm and you refused me!"

"I was a frightened child! I just wanted you to go away and leave me alone!" She regretted those words immediately. Time had changed her. It had changed _them_ , their dynamic. At some point, the desperate young girl who would drown her fear of his looming shadow with ant-psychotic drugs had grown into a woman who found some secret joy in interacting with it. He was subtle comfort to her voiding humanity and loneliness, and now here he stood in full form after so many years. Seething.

He paused, squinting down at her from the band of black surrounding his incompatible eyes. They were stunning. "You want me to leave you _alone_ , hm?" His large feet retreated backwards and he regarded her with an exaggerated bow, "As you wish, milady." Turning on his heel he made to angrily vacate the room.

Sarah's heart was in her throat, cold panic flushed her veins, and she took an involuntary step forward as her trembling voice shouted at the back of his head, "NO, I DON'T!" To her relief, he stopped, his fists clenched at his sides and elbows locked straight. The contours of his triceps bulged beneath the skin and she noted the perfectly tapered V shape of his lats meeting his waist. She swallowed, whispering to him as hot tears streamed from her pleading eyes, "Don't leave. I'm glad you were there. To save me. I don't want to die. I don't want to be alone. I guess…I guess I didn't realize I was worth saving, is all."

She heard him sigh, his head lowering, "You are forever worthy, milady." His fists unclenched and he turned to one side to look back at her, "But it's precisely that kind of abject self-loathing that got you where you are."

"I'm not trying to play the victim." Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Then stop behaving like one." He said flatly. Sarah felt her shoulders sink as he sauntered slowly back over to her, lowering his face to hers, "It's all dreadfully unfair, is it?"

She gave him a solemn grin and a shrug, "I feel my basis for comparison may have changed."

He nodded. One of his large hands reached to her shoulder, thumb stroking the bare flesh as he planted an affectionate kiss onto her forehead. All of it felt like flames, spreading intense heat like wildfire through her limbs. She closed her eyes, disappointed to sense his warmth leaving to walk around her.

"I don't pity you, I won't. I haven't the patience for it", he said, gathering articles of clothing from the large chest of drawers opposite the bed. "And I won't keep you against your will. If you decide to stay, and the decision must be yours, then I can help you." He lifted a pair of grey tights and a plain white tunic, appearing to appraise them as suitable before laying them across his forearm to dig for more. "But make no mistake, Sarah Williams, I'm just as easily capable of leaving you to drown in your own self-destruction if that's what you truly wish." Another shirt was carefully chosen and he closed the drawers, holding out one of the outfits to her, "This should do for now."

She took the clothing, heavy eyes studying him, "An ultimatum, then?"

"A truce", he answered pulling the black early renaissance style shirt over his head. The strings crisscrossing the chest hung loosely, exposing the mid-upper contour of his pecs and collarbone. "I'll play the villain no longer."

Guilt stuck heavy in her chest. Swallowing, she pushed it down into her gut and mulled the proposition over as she dressed in his tights and tunic. They were baggy on her, but as he said, they would do. "And if I stay", she started, his attention fully focused on her, "what does it mean?"

He blinked, "It means you don't die alone in a gutter with a needle in your arm."

"You know what I mean, Jareth," she responded with exasperation. "What does it _mean_? For _us_? You asked me to fear, love, and obey you once."

His smirk was surprisingly reassuring, "You're the most fearless being I've ever known, Sarah. I'll not hold my breath for the rest of it." He really had changed, as had she. They were like childhood playground mates meeting again for the first time as adults, having maintained their long-distance relationship via pen and paper. "Come", he said softly, taking her hand in his, "I've something you need to see."

Her fingers squeezed him as he led her from the bedchamber and down the candlelit corridor. Shadows danced on the walls, bringing the numerous paintings to life as the contrast of light and dark animated their scenes. Most were oil and canvas recreations of the Labyrinth just outside. Even now, she could easily recognize the various regions she had braved as a girl, aided by the friends she had made along the way. Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus and his trusty steed, Ambrosius, they had all remained in her life until she was admitted to Saint Martin's. After that, no manner of pleading or needing would manifest her friends. Perhaps they were ashamed as her parents were. They had spent the better part of two years convincing the neighbors that she was away on a writing scholarship to some fancy fine arts school in New York. If only they knew how desperately she wished that were true. She smirked as she and Jareth traveled past the other paintings of his younger, more glamorous self. A snicker tickled her nose and he looked at her with a sideways grin.

"What's so funny?"

"That hair", she pointed to one of the awkwardly posed portraits.

"I can cut it again if you miss it."

"Nah, I'm digging the Rockstar Warrior look, it suits you."

His smile faded and he looked ahead again, increasing the speed of his cadence. Suddenly she wondered if she had said something to offend him. The halls were bitterly silent all but for the faint echoes of their padding feet and ruffling clothing as they walked. He guided her through an arched doorway which opened into the anti-gravity stair room Sarah felt resembled something from the M.C. Echer piece which once hung over her bed. It was the very room Jareth had once professed his affections and asked hers in return, brutally unrequited. Guilt again plagued her as he pulled her up a flight of stairs to nothing and nearly over the edge. She gasped, digging her heels in and yanking back on him.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I'm not a magical fairy goblin, Jareth. I can't just go walking on walls and ceilings!" she answered with wild eyes.

With impressive strength he yanked her arm, twisting her around so her back was planted firmly against his chest. His arms locked around her and he dipped his mouth to her ear, "Trust me." The hot breath beat against her, cascading her skin with goosebumps. Puppeting her over the edge of the drop-off, she released a frightened yelp as the rush of air passed through them and they spilled over, continuing their footsteps along the flat underside of the staircase without missing a beat. She had expected to feel suspended upside down, but from this angle, the world now felt strangely right-side-up again. His arms remained firm around her, moving with the rapid expanding and relaxing of her chest as she panted. "I'll teach you that little trick someday", he spoke again against her raw flesh. She swallowed and he released her, sidestepping around her to lead the way forward once more. "Come, come." The throne room was completely vacant, much like the rest of the castle they had so far explored. A small pit rested at its center, and as they passed it, Sarah swore she could make out the faint echoing cry of a baby.

"Where is everyone?" She asked, jogging to catch up with him.

They rounded the corner, heading toward the grand foyer and wooden double doors at the entrance of the castle. "I won't lie to you, Sarah. My intensions are far from selfless." He paused, turning back to her with a stern expression. "In exchange for my aid, I will expect something in return. And as we have already discussed your love and obedience to be out of the question, there is something more I mean to ask of you."

Her heart sank as she watched him turn and continue his path toward the doors. She had thought him a changed man, but it seemed he was not different than any of the others she had traded favors with over the years. After all, one can engage in intercourse without the necessity of affection. She sighed, feeling her disappointment fuel her disgust. When they reached the great doors, his hands paused before prying them apart and stepping through. Sarah felt the rush of cold air whirl up beneath her tunic, billowing out through her collar to whip at her long hair. A gasp stole her words as her hand came to her mouth, covering the wide agape shock she was overcome by. The goblin village beyond the fortress gates was a desolate wasteland of crumbling brick and stone. Not a single building stood. The roads were cracked and up heaved, overtaken by intertwining ropes of vine and weed. The sky was a deep grey, boiling with black clouds which argued angrily with unrelenting flickers of white and yellow light, a silent thunderstorm amongst a vortex of shrouding darkness.

"What happened here?" She finally managed.

Jareth was standing halfway down the steps to the village, poised with a dirty bare foot atop a loose stone like a captain out a sea. The wind wound about his long hair, cracking it like a whip across his shoulders as he stared out at the vast ruin of his kingdom. "War." His answer came nearly inaudible, as if he were in a daze.

She joined him on the steps, scanning the scene in disbelief, "War? With whom?"

He turned, his eyes intense and pleading, "I need your help, Sarah. This is the favor I ask in return; help me win this war."

Her eyes blinked rapidly as if her brain were using them to process what was being asked of her. "Jareth, I want to help you but…"she looked about her at the wasteland, "I don't know what you expect of a junky stripper whore with daddy issues-"

"-Stop that!" His reprimanding tone caused her to jump lightly. "Stop abusing yourself. I won't stand for it any longer."She raised her eyebrows at him, at a clear loss for words. The wind picked up, nearly knocking her off the step as a loud clap of thunder broke the sky and growled down at them. Jareth's hand rose toward her in the gesture of a shake, "Stay with me, let me help you, and we can restore my kingdom."

She swallowed nervously, eyeing his hand like she was about to make a pact with the devil, "And when we're done here, what then? I can go?"

His stern stature faltered slightly. She could tell that wasn't what he had wanted to hear, but he recovered and held the hand out more firmly, "As you wish."

Eyeing the contractual symbol for another few seconds, she slowly lifted her hand and placed it into his. He squeezed, a faint glow permeating from the cracks where their skin met. It burned brighter for a moment, then extinguished, leaving her hand feeling warm as he released her. They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before he stepped down toward her, standing just over, inches from her face. She thought for a moment he might kiss her, but instead he took another step down toward the village, leading the way on another venture. She felt herself release the breath she didn't know she hand been holding and followed behind him.

The path was not an easy one to travel. Both of them came quite near rolling their ankles as they treaded over and around the many obstacles of remaining homes and buildings. He offered his hand as a chivalric gesture when she began stumbling. She took it, allowing him to aid her over crumbled brick and stone. The roaring and amalgamation of murky clouds above seemed to dramatize her own inner turmoil. The sickening withdrawal was coming, edging at her nerves and reminding her how desperate her need was. If she could just have a cigarette or a swig of whiskey it may keep the beast at bay for another few hours, but the likelihood of that was slim to nil. Then it occurred to her that she could really use a cigarette for the sake of having a cigarette. Lost in thought and growing nausea, she misstepped and tripped over an anchored trailing plant, slamming her shin against a nearby rock.

"FUCK!" she shouted, sitting back onto a boulder to rub and worry over the pain in her tibia. Lightening ripped through the sky, its voice crashing overhead within a millisecond.

Jareth looked to the sky with a rather challenging glare, "We have to keep moving."

She was gritting her teeth at the pain, "Where are we going?"

His hands reached for hers, pulling her back up to standing where she hobbled and neglected putting weight onto the aching limb. "Stop being such a baby", he said, "Let's go."

Grumbling, she begrudgingly followed as they made their way to the gates south of the village. She already knew what waited on the other side, but prepared herself for the worst as he pried open the rusty doors. To her great surprise the Labyrinth remained relatively intact, or at least what she could tell of it. Chunks of wall had been charred and destroyed, and most of it was now overgrown with wild creeping vine, but it mostly stood undisturbed compared to the village. At least it was easier to walk again. They approached the great wall which housed what would technically be its exit. She remembered it like it was yesterday. Taking her hand again, he pulled her inside. They traveled along, turning corners here and there, sometimes having to backtrack and recommence when they were impeded by a dead end.

"Don't you know the way through your own Labyrinth?" she teased him.

"All things change, precious."

Looking over her shoulder, she could see that the arched breach they had just come through was now a towering wall. Nothing was familiar anymore. A cramp in her belly slowed her pace, and she covered her hand over her abdomen as another glint of lightening preceded a deafening crash of thunder. Jareth's actions became more urgent as he continued to tow her along.

"Jareth", she begged, "I need to rest I…I'm withdrawing."

His focus remained ahead, pace unchanging, "I know."

Rain suddenly poured like some invisible force had sliced a wound in the sky. They were both drenched within seconds and the heavy beating of cold water made it difficult to see further than ten feet in any direction. Sarah was panting, aching, and feeling the sickness rise in her gut. It seemed to be coming on so much more quickly and intense than ever before. She needed a cigarette, a stiff drink, a hard fix. She needed it all. And now. Joining the heavy rain, marbles of frozen water assaulted them from the sky. They stung their flesh and covered the ground, bouncing and exploding to bits over the stone and moss floor.

Jareth halted abruptly turning to her to grab her by the shoulders. "You have to take a deep breath and calm yourself!" he shouted over the thundering storm. For all the thick dark makeup he wore, she found it strange that it not so much as smudged around his eyes as they were bombarded with pouring rain.

She blinked at him, water flowing over her eyelashes and off her chin, "But I didn't say anything!" Lightning flashed, striking the wall nearest them, sending brick and dirt spraying as they lurched to move out of its path. She was just recovering from the shock when her eyes caught the glimpse of something enormous lumbered across the path ahead, disappearing behind another jagged wall. Only its silhouette was visible in the vail of ice and rain, but it had without question been something live and moving. "What the hell was that?" Without responding, her guide grabbed her about the waist and quickly redirected her down another long winding hall. It twisted round itself in what felt like a complete circle before dumping them into an open courtyard. The fountain at its center bubbled and spilled over with the down pouring rainwater. Sarah thought she caught the glimpse of something small and child-like scurry across the back corner wall, vanishing through the archway on the other side. "There!" she pointed, "There's something in here! Did you see it?" Her body turned, looking back for Jareth but finding only solid brick. She spun about again, completing 360 degrees with no sight of him, no sight of an exit. They had all been sealed, all thick lofty wall now. "Jareth!" she called out for him, barely audible over the terrible storm. "JARETH!"

 _['Blood' by In This Moment]_

Sickness struck her like a knee in the gut and she folded over, heaving and gagging. There was nothing in her stomach to expel, which seemed far worse than vomiting as her muscles contracted and spasmed in repeated effort to rid her body of the toxins she so desperately craved. Pain seared through her bones, freezing her muscles, clawing at her skin. Her body trembled violently and she lost the strength to stand. Crawling down onto all fours, she sobbed, screaming out his name, cursing him, pleading for him. Lightning struck the branchless tree trunk across the courtyard and it erupted into brilliant flames of pink and purple. The wood sparked like the crackling of a dying firecracker and the whole thing went toppling to the ground. Sarah screamed and covered her head as it shattered like glass, its shards dispersing into shadowy winged creatures like bats that swarmed and schooled around her before taking to the blackened skies. The fountain had been destroyed by the fall and its overflowing liquid blead out into the courtyard, filling it up to her waist where she sat shuttering in agony on the hail covered ground. Finding the strength to stand, she braced her revolting body against the nearest wall and cried in her pain and terror as the water continued filling the four walls like a deep bath. She screamed out again for Jareth, answered only by the deafening crack and roll of thunder. The water was up to her shoulders when she began to swim, kicking and splashing to the fall wall where a thick family of vines grew, perfect for grasping and climbing. She reached the ropy structures, exhausted and dreadfully ill, trying to will herself to hoist up out of the black pool. Another bout of dry heaving was tickling at her throat and she turned back to the water just in time to catch the snaking of a large dorsal fin gliding through the deepening water that was now level with her chin. It changed course, headed directly for her. She screamed and turned to scramble up the vine, reaching the top just as the jagged teeth of the large shark emerged from the lapping waters and sawed painfully along the flesh of her bare heel, peeling it open.

Pain radiated up the back of her leg, nearly forcing her to open her grip on the vine, but she managed to push it down and climb her way over to the top of the wall. Wind whipped through her wet matted hair as she army crawled onto the small precipice overlooking an infinite free fall into glittering space below. The water filling the courtyard had boiled into a black tar that hissed and writhed, stringy tentacles coming to life to snap at her limbs and drag her back in as it grew higher and higher. She sat up onto the ledge, scooting backward to evade the leech-like arms that reached for her. There was nowhere to go. "JARETH!" she screamed again. A tug of guilt pulled at her chest, but it wasn't her guilt. It was his. He was near. She could feel him. The rising tar pit was licking at her feet now, gripping the sides of the ledge to crawl up after her. She stood, eyes frantically scanning the environment for a way out. Another wave of hot sickness vibrated through her limbs and she crumpled, moaning in agony. Her foot slipped on its own pool of blood, her strength faltered, and she fell. The ground came up to meet her, solid and fast. She landed on her back, coughing as the air was knocked from her. Green blades of grass tickled her hands and feet, the rain met an abrupt end, and the last thing she recalled was the faint glimmer of sunlight peeking through the dissipating clouds.


	3. The Winter

**So I had a change of heart about the music. In This Moment had some great stuff for the start up of this adventure, but I feel that the mood changes too much to try and stick with one band. Also, can I just say that writing this has dredged up some old grieving that I never really got a chance to do? I think I'm just now coming to terms with the fact that David Bowie is gone. Like, really gone. I'm quite depressed about it, actually. I've listened to nothing but his music for two weeks straight. What a terrible loss. What an amazing life. I'll miss him, deeply.**

 **So let's start this chapter out with one that not only fits the moment perfectly, but is just all round a great song (not that he ever wrote a bad one).**

* * *

['Survive' by David Bowie]

 _Oh, my  
Naked eyes  
I should have kept you  
I should have tried  
I should have been a wiser kind of guy  
I miss you_

The pleasing vibration of an acoustic guitar accompanied the poetic tones of a deep and familiar angelic voice, echoing down through the desolate halls. Sarah opened her eyes, finding her scene once again within the bedchamber of extravagant furnishings, dancing pink and purple flames, and comfortable four post bed.

 _Where's the morning in my life?  
Where's the sense in staying right?  
Who said 'time is on my side'?  
I've got ears and eyes and nothing in my life  
But I'll survive your naked eyes  
I'll survive_

She sat up on the mattress, eyes following the invisible path of lyrics until they paused for a short instrumental break. Her legs swung over the edge, bare feet touching the cold floor, and took notice of the deep green dress that now adorned her figure. Its cloth was a soft thick velvet trimmed in Celtic knots of a deep purple. The cleavage was modest, cutting a rectangular shape at mid-sternum, and the sleeves tapered out into long wing-like openings beneath her arms. Her thumbs and mid fingers shined with silver rings designed like ivy vines winding about her slender digits.

 _You alone across the floor  
You and me and nothing more  
You're the great mistake I never made  
I never lied to you, I hated when you lied  
But I'll survive your naked eyes  
I'll survive_

The melody brought her attention back to the door. She stood from the bed and followed its sound like a lyrical hypnosis. Just as before, the flickering candlelight illuminated paintings on the wall. The labyrinth stood in its former glory, untouched by time, the storm, or the war. Coming to a T in the hall, she listened for a moment before taking a left down another passage, guided by his voice. The portraits on the wall which once held a proudly posed Goblin King now caught her notice and she slowed her pace, stopping at the nearest one to study its carefully placed brush strokes with wild disbelieving eyes. There, frozen in time on canvas and framed in gold, was her exact likeness. The woman's green eyes seemed to challenge Sarah's gaze, a small smirk playing at the corners of her mouth like she held some great secret between her teeth.

 _Beatle boys, all snowy white  
Razzle dazzle clubs, every night  
Wish I'd sent a Valentine  
I love you_

Tearing her eyes from herself she followed the song, pausing every few steps to gape at another unsmiling and regally posed self-portrait. Her careful steps took her to the end of the corridor where she entered a large open archway into the dining hall. Jareth sat at the head of the long table suitable for a feast of thirty guests. The dark surface supported both of his dirty bare feet, crossed at the ankle as he leaned back in the high backed chair and plucked professionally at the strings of his guitar. His features were unchanged, but he now wore a large black leather jacket with studded shoulders and a raised collar similar in fashion to the avante-garde style she remembered from long ago.

 _I'll survive  
Naked eyes  
I'll survive  
I'll survive_

Her hands clenched into fists and she approached him with flames in her green eyes. His mouth had just opened for another stanza of his song when her open palm flew, catching him sharply across the cheek. Face turning into the force, his music halted and he sat like that for a long while before slowly bringing his gaze back to hers. Her hand rose for another assault, but he caught her wrist mid-swing. "Once..." he growled, standing to tower over her, his guitar clamoring to the floor with a loud _clang_ "...is quite enough."

"It's the least you deserve", she choked, eyes flooded with tears. The unbound hand came up to slap at him, but he impeded its path with quick reflexes. She struggled in his grip, rather unnerved by the intensity of his glower. His strength was great, he hardly even wavered as she thrashed madly against him.

"Sit-", using his leverage on her wrists, he shoved her back into the nearest dining chair, "-down", and bent eye level with her, his voice soft but threatening, "milady." His harsh grip tightened around her joints one last time before releasing her, settling back into his seat and retrieving his damaged instrument. "We've much to discuss."

Sarah's chest heaved heavily with harbored emotion. She didn't mean to cry in front of him, didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how badly he had hurt her, and the uncontrollable release of streaking tears only incensed her further. "Like how you just left me alone out there to-"

He cut her off with a raised finger in the air, leaning toward her to emphasize his point, "-Never. Never have I left you alone to fend for yourself when you needed me most." His hand lowered and leaned back into his chair, hands gripping firmly at the arm rests, "Some battles can only be won by the person who initiated them in the first place. Your fight in the Labyrinth had nothing to do with me. Those were your demons."

"Why even take me out there if you knew?" Her voice was more pleading and anguished than admonishing. "You knew what was going to happen to me out there, didn't you? I tru…I trusted you."

"I was holding up my end of the bargain, and I expect you to do the same."

"By trying to have me killed?!"

"Have I ever once allowed you to fall to harm?" The question took her off guard. She had never thought of him as her own personal guardian angel, but in momentary reflection, she realized there had indeed been moments when precarious situations had come to a mere close-call by some miracle. Three years ago, she had been four feet from the shaking end of a gun barrel. The intoxicated pimp was fed up with Sarah's adamant refusals to become one of his well paid escorts. The gun had only been means to frighten her, but his altered status made him clumsy. He pulled the trigger, the gun fired, and Sarah was knocked to the ground. In a frenzy of panic the pimp left her in the alley to bleed out and die alone. She lay there on the cracked wet pavement for a long time, cold shock freezing her limbs. Jareth's shadow passed over her from the dim light of the streetlamp and she finally rose to inspect the area of impact on her chest, finding nothing more than a sore bruise.

"How are your symptoms, Sarah?" His voice pulled her back from her memories, blinking at him with question in her eyes. His brows rose at her, "Your withdrawal symptoms, how are they?"

Another miraculous realization struck her; she felt nothing. No sick aching for heroin. No shaky need for liquor. No anxious fidgeting for a cigarette. Not even a pang of hunger or thirst. She was well rested and her eyes were void of their usual scratchy irritation.

Her decorated fingers wrung the folds of her dress like a child might cling to the comfort of its blanket. "Am I...am I dead?" she whispered. The sudden outburst of his boisterous laughter startled her, but it was an admitted relief. A small smirk pulled at the corners of her lips as she felt the contagious affects of his dimpled smile brush her nerves. "Why is that so damn funny?"

It took a few seconds for his chuckle to die down before he could fit coherent syllables together, clutching at his abdomen with a clawed hand, "Oh sweet Sarah, only you could mistaken good health for the afterlife. It really has been a long time for you hasn't it?"

"Since I was completely clean?" she sighed, "Yeah. A _really_ long time. You cured me?"

"You cured yourself." Leaning forward, he supported his torso with elbows on his knees and grinned affectionately at her, "Your strength is more vastly immense than you allow yourself credit for. I could not have fought that battle for you, only you could do that, but know that I have never and will never let you come to harm. My oath is forever my bond."

She smiled at him, bringing her hand up to gently cup his face. He sighed, closing his eyes and resting the weight of his cheek into her palm like she held some cure he desperately needed.

"Thank you", she whispered, eyes blurred once more with tears. "I'm sorry I struck you."

His unpaired eyes opened to meet hers, the more dilated of the two seeming to drink her in. She felt the deepest urge to kiss him. Her body responded to the notion by leaning her face slowly toward his, but he retreated back from her as if she came at him with a knife. Embarrassment blushed her ivory cheeks.

"Our bargain", he reminded her. "I have helped you overcome your demons, now you must help me with mine."

Sitting back in her chair, she nodded with a disappointed sigh. So this is what it felt like to be rejected. She wondered if he did it purposefully to punish her for her own cruel rebuttal ten years ago. Standing, he waved his hand gracefully in the air and two heavy fur coats glided in through the door toward them. His was a long-haired charcoal color which hung to mid calf, hers the purest white with a feminine flair which followed the shape of her dress. He donned his own before taking hers and holding it out politely for her. Her arms slid into the smooth silk lining within, immediately appreciating the comfortable warmth the large coat produced.

"Why do we need winter coats?" she asked, fastening the brass buttons.

"The calm reprieve before the rebirth has finally come, thanks to you."

She raised a brow at him, "Come again?"

He smirked, taking her hand, "It's balls cold outside."

Her own amused laughter echoed in the large room. It felt so good to laugh again. "Yes, I deduced that on my own, thank you. What I want to know is how the weather suddenly became frigid enough to warrant a wardrobe change."

Pulling her along, they exited the dining hall and followed the familiar path to the grand foyer, "I already told you, the reprieve has come."

"Is this some sort of long told prophecy?"

He tilted his head, "Not exactly. It's more like a desperate wish finally answered."

They rounded a corner and approached the large wooden doors. "Will it save your kingdom?" Sarah asked as he pulled at the large handle.

"That depends on you", he answered, bracing against the cold breeze that filtered in through the open door. Sarah found herself standing in awe once more, breath taken by the serene beauty of undisturbed snow glowing bright in the full moonlight. The powdered heaven glittered and covered every inch of ground, blanketing the hideous destruction beneath its layers. The air was cold but relatively calm. Gentle breezes blew the snow's surface, whirling it up into a sparkling dance. The skies were a deep navy blue littered with a billion pulsing white stars. A large moon hung in the sky, translucent and beaming like a shiny quartz crystal.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" The heat of his breath beat against her neck, fogging the air slightly. He stood behind her, gently untucking her long hair from her coat to spread it out along her shoulders and back. She nodded silently, feeling his arms close around her waist and draw her back comfortably against his chest.

"You're maddeningly inconsistent", she grinned, laying her head back onto his shoulder.

"Hm? How's that, then?" he whispered, a playful knowing in his tone.

"One minute you're pouring over me like chocolate on ice cream, the next you're pushing me away as if I were made of fire and you of ice."

The grip around her waist tightened and he buried his face into her neck, breathing her in before responding, "I've waited an eternity to touch you, forgive me if I find it difficult to resist sometimes." A pleasure filled sigh escaped her and he squeezed her even tighter, almost uncomfortably.

"Jareth", her breath hitched as she felt him begin slowly planting soft kisses along her skin, "I _want_ you to touch me."

He moaned against her flesh, "Oh gods, don't tell me that."

"I do", she argued urgently, arching into him, "I want you, Jareth. I've wanted you for ages –"

He released her suddenly, cutting her off and leaving her with an aching need almost as terrible as her drug withdrawals. The cold air around her suddenly felt unbearable and her body trembled as she watched him pace a few laps in front of her. A hand smoothed back his hair and he cleared his throat, finally stopping to wave a hand in the air, producing two pairs of fur lined boots. He donned his pair quickly, averting his eyes from her sour glare.

"Are you only teasing me as some sort of sick punishment?" she asked, slipping into her own boots.

He sighed, visibly torn between an ongoing war in his head, "Believe me when I tell you the _teasing_ is unintentional. I want nothing more in this world than to rip your clothes from your body and take you right here on this floor." She shuttered. "But there are so many more pressing issues at hand. We can discuss the sexually frustrating complexity of our physical relationship, and what we plan to do about it, later." Her eyes rolled in her head as she followed him carefully down the stairs into the snowy night. "Besides," he continued a few yards into their route, "after all the unbearable _teasing_ you've have me suffer through over the years, I'd say I may owe you a few."

"I knew it", she sneered with a modest grin.

Once again, Sarah found herself blindly following her Goblin King as he led her trudging through knee deep snow in the shroud of night. They had ventured in the opposite direction of the Labyrinth this time which was a welcomed relief. If she never saw the inner walls of that cursed structure again, she decided it would still be too soon. Instead, the moonlit path ahead drew them nearer to the great black lake she recalled from the dreadful first night of her return to the Underground. He had forcefully bathed her in that icy water, causing her the greatest pain she had ever known. Even now, she ached at the thought of it.

"Please tell me you don't expect me to dip even a toe into that lake again." she groaned.

"It's likely frozen at this point anyhow, but no, that was not my intention."

As they approached, it was easy to see that his assumptions were accurate. The lake stood like black glass in a pale frame. Far across its vast dark surface a collection of rock formations opened like the mouth of a serpent into the mountains beyond.

"Mind your step", Jareth said, testing the ice with a booted foot before sliding out onto its surface with the other.

Sarah scrunched her nose at him, "Have you lost your mind? I'm not walking over ice!"

"Our destination is those mountains", he said with a point, "and unless you've mastered shape shifting in your time away, then walking on ice is precisely what we shall do."

"Jareth."

"Sarah."

"At least tell me what we're doing out here. Your secrecy is unnerving."

"Currently, we're wasting valuable time."

"You know what I mean! Talk to me!"

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose over the black band that was his permanent mask, "Sarah, there's far too much to explain, and most of which I doubt you would even believe. You will just have to trust me when I tell you that this excursion is not in vain. It must be done if we are to safe my kingdom, and you made me a promise. I helped you," his hand held out for hers, "now help me."

Damn her honor. Groaning, she took his hand and he assisted her out onto the slippery ground. The initial journey was slow and difficult, Sarah fell once and Jareth nearly twice, but soon they found their footing and were scooting along easily as the mountains grew larger and closer.

"Did you lose all of your people in the war?" she asked him at the midway point.

"Some of them vanished, the rest I evacuated for their own safety." he answered, slipping a bit and clumsily regaining his balance. "They're scattered over various regions and planes, awaiting my orders. To be honest, it all seemed increasingly hopeless until your return."

"If you knew I could help, why didn't you just ask for it?"

Laughter shook his chest, "Come now, Sarah, be realistic. You never would have returned here if I had not brought you myself, and certain rules prevent me from doing so unless you specifically ask. Your recent error in judgment was serendipitous for both of us."

"It wasn't an error in judgment! Nick loaded the needle, not me…" her mind drifted back to the boy who had been with her the night she nearly died. "Jareth, did he?"

His focus remained on the mountains ahead, but she could tell by his silence that the answer was grim. She stopped, guilt rising up into her chest and filling her eyes with bitter tears of regret. He stopped as well, turning to her to place a comforting hand on her shoulder and tilt her face to him with two fingers beneath her trembling chin, "The kid unknowingly purchased heroin laced with fentanyl, Sarah. He was going to die whether you accompanied him or not." She nodded shallowly, a tear escaping her eye to streak down her cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb and grinned, "Not so selfish after all, hm?"

Taking her hand, he encouraged her forward once more and they continued their silent path to the banks of the lake, standing just outside the mouth of the deep cave at the base of the mountain.

"This is the part where you prepare me for what we are to find inside", her nervous trembling breath fogged the cold air.

"How much do you know about swordplay?"

Her eyes shot to him, wild with question, "I took fencing for two years, why?"

He took a deep breath and held it for a moment, "That should be sufficient."

Stepping up the snowy bank, he made to enter the cave. She grabbed at his arm and pulled him back, "Oh, no you don't! What the fuck does all of that mean? Am I going to be sword fighting?"

"You'll stay close and do exactly as I say without question. Understood?"

She shoved his hand from her as he reached to grab her by the waist, "Oh fuck you! I agreed to help you, but not at the risk of getting myself killed. If this is really that dangerous, then your happy magical ass can do it yourself!"

"Sarah", his fist gripped the front of her coat, dragging her along, "don't defy me."

"Goddamnit, Jareth, I'm not fifteen anymore, you can't scare me with scarf tricks and magic crystals!" her fingers tore at his hand, futilely trying to pry it open. She dug her boots into the frozen ground in an attempt to find anchor, but only manage to dig a path behind her as she was easily pulled toward the cave. In one final effort, she let her body go completely limp, crumpling down onto the ground.

Growling with annoyance, he leaned down and easily lifted her limp body, throwing her over his shoulder to carry her the rest of the way into the cave, "Pain in the ass."

"Douche bag."

"Everything's going to be fine, Sarah, I already swore I'll let no harm come to you."

"I hate you." Her tone was bright and mocking.

The very instant his boots breached the threshold of the entrance, she was unsurprised to see it fold in on itself, effectively blocking the only exit.

"Of course", she stated blandly, resting her chin onto her palm, elbow in the small of his back as she hung over his shoulder, "trapped like a rat in the dark with god-knows-what and a dickhead for a guardian. This is exactly how I wanted to spend my evening."

"Quit your complaining", he smacked her hard on the ass, making her jump before setting her down onto her feet, "it beats being worm food."

She scoffed, "Oooooh, too soon."

"Was it?" his hand conjured a brilliant white flame, lighting their surroundings like a torch, "I thought it chuckle worthy at the very least, for those who can."

"Kiss my ass", she retorted with an exaggerated patronizing smile.

His hand gave her ass another smack as he leaned in close to her face with a smirk, "Maybe later. Now let's find our way through this thing and hope it's not as intricately designed as my Labyrinth, hm?"

As her only choices were now to either stay behind alone in the stark blackness or follow her only companion and light source into the unknown depths of the cave, she begrudgingly chose the latter, staying close at his heels. The mouth of the cavern had been rather damp, jagged stalactites dripping with crystalline ooze, but the deeper they traveled the more dry the air became. The enchanted light of his hand illuminated the rugged walls, and she noted they seemed to become wider and higher the further they traveled. Overall, the space appeared to be void of any life other than theselves, which did serve to relief her nervousness. After what felt like an eternity venturing through dark empty tunnel, they were finally met with a cul-de-sac of stone ceiling and floor. Sarah felt herself struggle between mixed feelings of relief and disappointment. She was glad they hadn't met anything malicious, and that she wouldn't have to try to dust of fencing skills from over a decade ago for the sake of saving her own life, but they had come all this way for nothing. He had been wrong, their task was in vain. Jareth approached the wall slowly, touching and pressing at it with is fingertips and studying it with his eyes as if it were covered in brailed hieroglyphics.

"Give me your hand", he said finally, reaching for her arm but not removing his gaze from the wall.

She hesitated, allowing him use of her open palm which he placed against the cold structure. "What is-"

"-Shh." He cut her off sharply.

She rolled her eyes, tapping the toe of her boot impatiently as he continued to manipulate and splay her fingertips into different shapes and positions on the wall.

"Oh!", he chirped suddenly, making her jump. "Of course, how could I have missed that?"

"What?"

He gripped her wrist, reaching into his coat to pull free a small knife, "Just a tiny drop of blood, it won't even hurt, I promise."

She struggled in his grip, "Wait, what? Let go!"

The sharpened tip of the blade licked her palm, making her yelp and curse him as dark blood began to flow from the wound. "Ouch, fuck head!" He turned her arm, forcefully planting the palm with pooling blood against the dirty wall. It soaked the liquid up like a sponge, staining the surface with the imprint of her hand where it glowed a brilliant blue. Sarah watched in awe, nearly forgetting the assault to her hand until he brought it to his mouth and licked the gash.

Her eyes averted to him as he was closing his hand over hers, grinning keenly. "See? All better."

Pulling her hand from his grasp, she could see that the split flesh was indeed completely healed. The glowing handprint on the wall seemed to pulse leisurely the way a computer icon would signify the loading of information. They watched as it faded from view, blending back into the ordinary stone wall of the cave, then the wall spit with a deafening crack. Sarah jumped, taking a few careful steps backward as Jareth inspected the empty space which was now smoking like the barrel of a gun.

After a moment, his hand beckoned her forward, "Come, Sarah, this is yours."

"Mine?" She gradually advanced, peering into the long crack to see the subtle glint of a brass cross guard shining it the darkness. "What happens if I take it?"

"Clever girl", he whispered over her shoulder. "I'm not completely sure, but best be ready."

"That's very comforting."

Taking a deep breath, she held it while her trembling hand reached in ever so slowly for the grip of the sword. It sang as she pulled it free of its place of slumber, vine-engraved blade humming and shining in Jareth's light. The pommel was a trio of stars at the center of a large circle, and the cross guard looked like two adjoining fists shaking in a peaceful truce. The pair stood quiet and still for a long while, eyes scanning the area around them for any retaliation which may follow her abduction of the sword now in her possession. Sarah finally released the breath she had been holding when it appeared no other actions need be taken, and they slowly made their way back to the entrance of the cave. Also to their great relief, it seemed to sense their return and easily peel itself away to allow them passage out into the cold night air.

"Oh fuck" Sarah's shoulders dropped, the blade in her hand scraping the ground. The lake before them now rippled and waved with the wind, lapping at the bank eagerly with thawed emotion. "So, now what?"

"That's easy", he gloated, juggling one of his crystal orbs over his hand and tossing it out at the waters. It sunk without so much as a ripple, and within moments, a small rowboat was growing up from the depths. It paddled itself over to them and nestled at the bank, bobbing gently in the water. Jareth wadded out and steadied it, reaching for Sarah's hand, "Milady."

She climbed in, doing her best not to soak her boots, though it was notably less cold now than when they had first entered the cave. Once she was seated, blade across her lap, Jareth joined her and began using the paddles to navigate across large lake.

"See? That wasn't so bad, now was it?" he grinned at her with a wink.

Her mouth parted to answer when the small boat was bumped hard enough from something beneath for both of them to clamor and grip at the siding for balance. One of the oars fell into the water and began to float away. Jareth tried using magic to recall it, but it refused, drifting quickly out of sight.

"You just had to say something, didn't you?" she scolded him.

He shrugged, clutching the remaining oar to his chest as another unseen force rocked their minute floating device. Paddling frantically, he pushed them through the water toward the shore as quickly as his limbs would allow while her eyes scanned their surroundings for movement. The effort was useless; night still overhung them and the black liquid below shrouded everything even inches below its surface. Another harsh bump rocked the boat, this time sending them skidding a few feet to the side with the impact.

"Jareth", her voice trembled with fear, "I can't swim."

Just as she uttered her last syllable, a force came up from beneath them, lifting the boat and toppling it over onto its side. Sarah screamed as they went flailing into the water. Panic struck her as the weight of her heavy layers became soaked and burdening, dragging her downward. The water was frigid and stung at her flesh, but the pain was not as intense as the first night, not even nearly so. Her head broke the surface of the water with a gasp of air and she realized Jareth had pulled her up by the collar of her coat. The boat was capsized, rocking violently in the tumbling waters where they splashed and struggled to regain some control. He clung to its underbelly, hoisting her up so she could climb up and straddle it before lifting himself out of the water. His hands immediately began unbuttoning his coat and pulling off his boots.

"Get rid of them." he commanded. "They'll weigh you down." She reached to her own coat, realizing that she still held the grip of the sword tightly in her hand. Some force within her was telling her to hold onto it, no matter what it took. Hold onto that sword. Jareth made quick work of his heavy layers, then started in on hers, peeling them off of her to toss them out carelessly. "The dress, too", he said quickly, sliding the hem up her thighs. She lifted herself from the boat and let him pull it over her waist and shoulders, being careful to always have at least one hand on the sword at all times. "I lost the other oar", he said rather urgently. "We'll have to paddle with our hands. My magic's not working."

Both of them were trembling head to toe as the cold began bleeding into their bones. Sarah paddled with one free hand while Jareth alternated his two, unable to reach the water with both arms simultaneously from where they were perched.

"What's in here", she shuddered, almost too afraid to ask.

He ignored her question, breathing hard in his effort to keep them moving toward the shore. They were just at the halfway mark when yet another hard thud threatened to throw them both off. He grabbed her shoulders, steadying her balance as his eyes glanced about them in the water. His mouth had parted to speak, interrupted by the eruption of water behind him. Sarah screamed in terror as a large black tentacle darted upward, slapping its suckers about Jareth's waist before yanking him into the lake. It had all happened in what felt like a millisecond, he was there, then he was gone, and the water was calm again.

"JARETH!" her head spun in all directions, searching, knowing she would be unable to see anything. "JARETH!" hopelessness flooded her veins, tears building in her eyes. "JARETH!"

What should she do?

What _could_ she do?

The boiling ripple of bubbles meeting the surface of the water caught her attention and she scrambled to the edge of the boat to peer down into the murky blackness. Shaking violently, she reached her hand down into the water, watching it disappear completely from sight only inches deep. Another grouping of bubbles came up just beneath her palm and she sat up, crying and gasping for air, for a plan. Something. He was down there, dying. A part of her felt like it was dying too, struggling for air, breathless and fighting. Rage filled her, replacing her fear and panic with a growing heat that made her blood boil. Her eyes glanced down to the weapon in her hand; it was vibrating with fury, shaking in her white knuckles. Taking a deep breath, she shifted her weight and fell down into the shrouded depths. Her eyes opened underwater but she could see nothing, not even shadow, this space was entirely void of any and all light. She allowed the weight of the sword to pull her downward, using her other hand to scan the darkness and search for anything that might be moving. To her great surprise, the soggy bottom of the lake squished beneath her toes before her ears had even begun to pop. She stood on the sand, feeling her way through the depths like one might feel their way through a dark room. The sound of bubbles and a muffled moan pulled her attention to the left, just over her shoulder. He was so close, she could feel it. Her hand swept the area, feeling the brush of current caused from movement disturbing the water. Walking into it, her hand met what felt like a thrashing arm, a kicking knee.

She found him, and he was alive. Joy nearly caused her lungs to release their air, but she held on tight, searching the water for his captor. She found it, rubbery and soft like the flesh of a sautéed mushroom. Positioning her blade, she knew she would need to attack quickly but carefully. She didn't want to stab Jareth. In her hesitation, the creature had curled its tentacles around her and now had her by the waist, squeezing the life out of her, trying to push the precious remaining air from her lungs. She had only few valuable seconds left before she would need more air, and the being had her planted firmly to the ground of its lightless lair. She switched the blade into her left hand. It was her non-dominant hand and would be clumsier, but it was the furthest reach from where Jareth was thrashing. Thrusting her arm forward, she felt the tip penetrate the soft flesh of the creature. It writhed in pain and an agonizing sound vibrated through the water. The tentacles around her waist tightened, and she withdrew the sword to force another wound into its spongy body. It bucked, nearly pulling the weapon from her hand. Her lungs felt like they were going to explode, she had to release the air. Bubbles tickled her nose as they retreated upward toward the surface, and finally she felt the powerful grip release her.

Kicking with all her might, she projected herself up through the shallow murky depths to break the surface, gasping for fresh air. She succeeded in filling her lungs with a new bank of oxygen just as the weight of her sword pulled her back down to the floor of the lake. Her hand reached out, searching for him and finding nothing. She walked along the ground, probing frantically in all directions. Her lungs needed oxygen very shortly this time and she kicked upward again, breaking the surface with a huge gulp. She submerged again, panicking, searching, trying to find him. Where was he? Where was he? Fear took her again and she screamed his name underwater, bubbles escaping in plumes. She needed air again, but she stayed at the bottom, looking for him. Desperate. Something gripped at her hair, yanking her through the water by her scalp. The beast had found her, back for his revenge. She couldn't even turn about to defend herself. She had no air left in her lungs. She gulped and swallowed a great deal of lake water. This was how it would end. A watery grave, her worst nightmare, an even greater fear than her overdose which _he_ had saved her from. And now he was gone. She couldn't save him, just like she couldn't save Nick. The fight in her gave, accepting defeat, waiting for the creature to devour her. Perhaps she would drown before then. The painful tug at her hair intensified and she braced for the worst, suddenly feeling her face break the surface and cold air fill her lungs. She coughed, spat, sputtered and gagged, hyperventilating to catch her breath. Something gripped her beneath both shoulders and hoisted her out of the water completely. She opened her eyes to find that she was being pulled back up into the boat which was now right-side-up again.

['Heroes' by David Bowie]

Jareth was yelling at her to "Breathe! Breathe!"

Coughing and gagging, she lurched to the edge and expelled some of the lake water she had swallowed. Soon, oxygen was beginning to circulate within her easily again and she sat up to cup his face in both hands. "Jareth!"

He cupped her face in his hands as well, pulling her in to kiss her deeply, frantically. "You're a fucking badass!" he shouted, shaking her head excitedly, "A fucking badass!" They kissed again, quick, desperate kisses that sometimes missed their lips altogether, ending up on a chin or a jaw line. Their skin was frozen to the touch, and even in the midst of their heated passion, each of them knew they still had a long way to go before they could be safe and warm. Breaking painfully from one another, they worked again at rowing the boat to shore as best they could without oars. Jareth tried again to summon magic, but the waters seemed to have a dulling affect on his abilities. Sarah nestled her sword safely in the bottom of the boat so she was free to use both hands to help. Reaching dry land was a welcomed relief for two reasons; one, they were out of danger to any other terrors that might be lurking beneath the shallow waters of the black lake, and two, Jareth's powers were easily conjured once they touched the shore. He used them to call upon multiple layers of dry clothing and the warmth of a traveling flame to follow them safely home.

* * *

 **Bah-ha! You have to wait for your smut!**

 **It's on its way, don't fret.**


	4. The Blade

By the time Sarah and Jareth trudged their way back to the steps of the castle, the snow had melted into puddles of frozen sludge which began to quickly flow down the various paths of least resistance. The utter destruction of the surrounding city seemed to be washed away with the retreating water, leaving behind a grassy hill of deep green surrounding the base of the fortress. Dawn was painting hues of pink and yellow along the horizon, warming the sky and the air around them. It had become warm enough to shed a few layers, but still chilly enough to warrant longer sleeves. Sarah's feet were achy and chilled to the bone by the streams of flowing water that had soaked through her newly manifested boots. She all but crawled up the steps to the castle's entrance, Jareth's hand upon her waist to guide her. Sitting on the top step, she tugged the soggy boot from her foot and wriggled her pruned toes in the air.

"Your kingdom sucks", she groaned in sheer exhaustion.

He plopped down next to her, kicking off his own boots before laying back onto the hard stone, "It wasn't always so volatile. You'll see, one day it will be glorious again. You may even decide to stay."

She glanced back at him with an askew grin, "Doubtful."

"What's left for you back there?" He was failing at a thin attempt to conceal his disappointment.

"What's left for me here?"

Sitting up quickly, he cupped her chin and pulled her into a kiss. It was forceful and firm at first, then melted gingerly away until only the ghost of his lips brushed hers. The world spun. She didn't even dare open her eyes for fear of falling over. No man had ever made her feel that way, only the drugs could do that. He was a drug, hazardous and intoxicating. Dreadfully prejudicial, but she wanted him nonetheless.

"Need I say more?" his delicious lips and warm breath fluttered against hers, making her shudder.

A drunken grin crept upon her, eyes still closed, "Your argument is far more compelling than the last time you tried to seduce me into staying here with you."

She felt him smile against her mouth, stroking her cheek gently with his thumb. In many ways she was truly becoming more inclined to stay here with him, frozen in time within tender moments such as these. But what was the good of a second chance at life if she didn't use it to rectify her past mistakes? More than anything else she needed to prove to the world that she could make something of herself, that she could be important, respected, that the junky whore could rise above her sorted past and burn bright as the stars. His hand slipped slowly down her face, her neck, down between her breasts, sending a hitch into her breath. A deep vibration crawled up her arm, drawing her attention back to the sword clutched tightly in her hand. She had nearly forgotten she wielded it, but there it was, firmly planted in her white knuckled fist like she held onto it for dear life. Exchanging it to the opposite hand, she pried her aching knuckles apart, flexing and extending them in the air with a discontented grimace.

"I have a million and one questions", she said, looking again to the shiny weapon.

Jareth sighed, nodding his head in her periphery, "I know you do and with good reason." Pinching her chin tenderly between his thumb and forefinger, he brought her eyes back to his, "And I swear to you I will answer every last one of them when the time is right. For now, I have to ask you to continue trusting me, and know that everything I do is for you."

She lifted a brow at him, smirking sideways. "I've heard this promising speech before, sir."

"And have I ever broken my word to you? Haven't I always heeded your every request no matter how insignificant? Even if it meant I had to debase myself to ceasing rainfall just to save you a bad hair day?"

Sarah groaned, tilting her head back in defeat, "Oh alright, alright! You win. Attractively persuasive pain in the ass, that's what you are."

He chuckled, his lips meeting her once more, filling her with that euphoric rush of electric bliss she had only ever known from heroin. She felt his tongue playfully tickle her bottom lip, requesting entrance which she gladly accepted with the eager tangling of her tongue with his. A cool breeze blew between them, lighting her flesh with pleasant little goosebumps that tingled beneath the touch of his hand gliding up her arm. When they finally parted, her eyelids remained heavy and she found it impossible to restrain the smile that dimpled her cheeks.

"Come", he whispered, standing to aid her up by her hand. "Let's get you something to eat, a hot bath, and some well-deserved rest."

Sarah moaned at the thought, "Oh god. That sounds absolutely amazing."

The weight of the sword burdened her already weary shoulder as she followed him through the corridors, back into the dining hall. He pulled a chair out for her at the head of the table and relieved her of the heavy weapon, placing it onto the chair beside her. Slumping back comfortably into her seat, she watched him exit the room into what she assumed must be the kitchens. There was a considerable amount of clinking and clanging, and he returned pushing a wooden cart full of steaming dishes. He parked it close to her seat, unfolding a table napkin from his forearm with a playful air of pretentiousness. She sat up, expecting him to place the cloth into her lap, but instead he laid it over her head, covering her face.

"Would the lady enjoy a glass of wine?" she heard him ask with a pompous tone.

Pulling the napkin from her face with a roll of her eyes, she placed it into her lap, "You're offering alcohol to a former alcoholic. That's just mean."

He seemed to consider her words carelessly, "Guess that spoils any plans of getting you in my bed _that_ way."

"Such a charmer. How do the girls resist you?" A clear glass of fresh water was presented in front of her as he chuckled. Her hand reached for it, but he stopped her, dropping a small cherry-like fruit into it with a light splash. It fizzled like baking soda in vinegar, turning the water a light pink shade with dancing bubbles of carbonation before settling into a sparkling beverage. "That's not the Underground version of a roofie, is it?" she asked facetiously. He disregarded the question with a smirk, picking up utensils resembling a fork and knife to begin sawing at something unfamiliar on the tray. Lifting the glass to her lips, she sipped the liquid and hummed a sound of approval as the tangy sweetness enveloped her taste buds. It reminded her of cherry cordials dipped in dark chocolate. Like something from childhood. A silver plate slid in front of her and she tilted her head at the sight of numerous exotic morsels in an array of colors.

"I suppose I don't have to tell you that I don't eat animals", she mentioned.

He answered with a silent nod, joining her at the table with his own plate of foreign food, "Not since the epic infection of your early twenties. I don't blame you. That was horrendous to witness. "Sarah felt a fire light her cheeks. How mortifying it was to think he had been invisibly present through all of the projectile vomiting, profuse sweating, and agonizing abdominal cramps, not to mention other unsavory details. "You'll be pleased to know our kingdom refrains from consuming the rotting flesh of animal carcasses as well, so eat up. You need to regain your strength."

" _Our_ kingdom", she teased.

"The royal 'our'."

To her pleasant surprise, the food was indeed delectable. It warmed her weary bones and filled her belly with a heaviness that was welcomed but not overwhelming or sickening. She ate and drank until her heart was content, feeling her eyelids become ever more burdening. When he was finished with his meal, Jareth wiped the corners of his mouth politely and stood to pull out her chair. Without thinking, her hand gripped her sword and lugged it along with her. Perhaps it brought her some sense of control in an otherwise uncontrollable situation. She wasn't sure, but at any rate she knew she wanted it with her at all time. The pair exited the dining hall and she followed him up a short winding staircase into a round room surrounded by spear shaped windows. A large stone bath was situated in the center of the room, buried within the floor. It was square shaped and quite deep, resembling something more akin to a hot tub than a bath. Turning to her, Jareth maneuvered one of his glass orbs over the top of his hand and flicked it casually into the tub. It splattered like a water balloon, filling the space with steaming liquid that beckoned her senses. A wooden cabinet rested in one rounded edge of the room. He riffled through its spaces to pull out a few familiar bathing supplies, setting them at the edge of the steaming bath.

"Soap, towels, I'll bring you fresh clothes. Anything else?"

"Not joining me?" she teased.

His internal struggle was readily obvious, "Not this time." Another crystal orb was tossed into the tub, causing it to boil and bubble like a luxurious whirlpool. "But do feel free to think of me while you relax."

Winking slyly, he turned and stepped from the room, closing the door. It was the first time she would have complete privacy for as long as she could remember. Such a strange feeling. She undressed, setting the sword carefully upon the cool floor beside the bath before easing her limbs into the pleasant welcoming waters. The tub was deep, allowing the water to reach her waist when she stood. A moan of contented relaxation left her as she lowered and lounged back chin-deep, enjoying the perfuming scent of lavender and rose. Her eyes closed and she felt the tension in her muscles slowly melt away.

Sleep took her quickly. In her dreams she was spinning in slow motion, leaping, a kaleidoscope of colors and skilled movements with her sword in hand. They danced together to an inaudible beat, completely centered, connected and one. She wielded it like it was an extension of her body, her soul. She slashed the air, rotated the weapon about her body and over her head, stabbing, jabbing, and rolling through a summersault to strike a strong defensive pose. Her skin crawled like static over an old television screen. Someone was nearing, closer, creeping in on her. Innately she sensed their hand reach for her. Her blade flashed, she spun, snatched the wrist from the air, the blade came to their throat.

"Whoa! WHOA!" Jareth's voice woke her with a start. Her eyes flew open, blinking wildly at the scene before her: She was naked in a bubbling bath of hot water, pinning Jareth to one end of the tub with the sword to his throat, his wrist held tight in her grip. His clothes were soaked and he held both hands out in open surrender. She had clearly yanked him down in to the water with her. Sarah gasped, pulling the blade from his neck to drop it onto the floor outside the bath.

"I'm sorry", she said with a sense of bewilderment.

Jareth rubbed at his throat, glancing at the traces of blood on his fingertips with a grin, "Sorry I startled you." He tilted his head, "You're sexy when you're raging."

Sitting back down into the comfort of the water, she shook her head with disbelief, "I don't know where that came from. I'm so sorry, Jareth."

He dipped his bloody hand into the bath, letting the roaring waters wash it clean, "Only a flesh wound, love. No harm done." She shook her head again, raising her brows as he removed his soaked shirt, tossing it aside. He eased himself chin-deep into the water with a grateful sigh, resting his head back onto the far edge and closing his eyes. There was enough room in the large bath for both of them to lounge comfortably, only their legs grazing beneath the water. Glancing beside her, Sarah could see he had returned during her short slumber to bring the promised clothing. It appeared to be a long cotton nightgown with ruffled lace at the wrists and collar. He was fully clothed when she apparently yanked him into the water, and she could feel that he still wore his black tights.

Sighing with silent relief that she had done no more mutilation to him than the nick upon his neck, she took up the fresh bar of soap nestled within the towel he had set out for her. It was a lemony yellow color with small specks of lavender bud within. The scent was entirely pleasing and felt nice on her warm skin. She dipped her head beneath the water to wet her crown and used the soap to lather up the long strands. Her movements paused momentarily as she felt the slow glide of Jareth's foot slinking up her inner thigh. She opened her eyes to find him still relaxing on the other side of the bath, pretending to snooze. A smirk stretched her lips and she pushed him away, dipping her head again to rinse the fragrant suds from her hair. She was wringing out the wet locks with a few parted twists when she felt his foot tracing her skin again, this time brushing her slit lightly with his toes.

 _['Lady Grinning Soul' by David Bowie]_

He was looking at her now, the growing glimmer of predatory calculus lighting his unique eyes. She swallowed her nerves. To say his advances didn't thrill her to her deepest layer would be an absolute lie, especially when he looked at her like that. Like he could tear her to shreds at any moment. Drug addicts and drunks didn't maneuver with purpose the way he did. Hell, they were lucky just to get their pants down and crawl on top of her before they passed out most of the time. And satisfying her needs was not exactly the forefront of their addled minds, not that she had ever been sober enough to care in the past. Then a realization occurred to her; she had never actually experienced sober intercourse. She and Jareth would eventually have sex, possibly even imminently. There was no question about that in her mind. Strangely enough, the thought made her nervous as a bride on her wedding night. But there appeared to be little time to linger on the thought as he slid through the water like a shark toward her. She hadn't realized she was backing away from him until she felt the edge of the tub press against her spine.

Raising a brow, she saw him flash her a seductive grin before dipping beneath the bubbling surface of the water. Fingers slid up the back of her thighs, ending at the roundness of her ass to grip her flesh. Her breath hitched as she felt the delicate tickle of little air bubbles teasing her sex, and almost outside her volition she found herself spreading her thighs apart. He kissed his way upward along her leg. She held her breath. His lips pressed at her slit. She gasped. Then she felt the slick slender point of his long tongue penetrate her. She moaned, reaching behind her to steady herself against the sides of the bath. Her legs trembled as he took his time dragging his tongue upward. Another moan escaped her as he swirled and flicked at her sensitive apex, causing her to buck her hips. She whined in disappointment when his incredibly skillful mouth left her to seek oxygen. He rose from the water, long hair matted to his shoulders and a conceitedly satisfied smile upon his face. She stood before him, heavy-lidded, panting, and trembling. The image appeared to please him, stroking his ego as well as his lust.

Dipping his head to kiss her, he drug his tongue along her bottom lip, having her sample the subtle hint of her own flavor remaining on his mouth. It was incredibly erotic. She found herself meeting him with heated enthusiasm, sucking and licking at his lips and tongue. Her eagerness spurred him on further. Nails dug into the skin of her waistline, pressing her against him where she could fully appreciate the intensity of his arousal through his tights. One of her hands slid down the lean curves of his muscular abdomen, dipping beneath the waistband to grip at his solid length. He responded with a deep growl, nibbling her bottom lip between his teeth.

"Fuck me, Jareth", she pleaded.

Releasing her lip, he opened his eyes and seemed to consider her words for a moment before cupping her face in his hands with a slow shake of his head, "No." He kissed her, leaving question burning in her mind. _No?_ Was he only teasing her again? But he was still kissing her, slowly, deeply, passionately. His hands left her face, fumbling with his tights as his mouth remained locked to hers. Hands cupped her ass again and suddenly she was being lifted up to his chest. The hands instructed her legs to part and wrap around his waist. She complied readily, gasping when she felt his thick tip press against her entrance. Smiling against his mouth, she tried to lower herself onto him but he maintained full control with his arms. Her body ached for him like it ached for the drugs she was once addicted to. Burning need tore into her core. She was ready for him. She needed him.

"Look at me", he whispered. She opened his eyes, locking his mismatched gaze with hers as he finally began to lower her. Slowly. So slowly. He sheathed himself inside her to the hilt, obviously struggling just as much as she was to keep his eyes from rolling in their sockets. Both his strong arms wrapped about her body, pinning her to his chest. She moaned and kissed him as his hips began to start up a spine tingling rhythm of thrusting and withdrawing. Her hips moved with him, matching his moderate and unbelievably blissful cadence. The waters surrounding them sloshed and splashed over the edges of the bath.

Sarah wasn't sure if it felt so good because she was fully able to appreciate all of the sensations of sex with unaltered cognition for the first time or if it was because he was just better at it than any of her other lovers. Perhaps it was the fact that it was _him_. After years of teasing they were finally wrapped about each other, panting, moaning, tongues tangling, teeth dragging skin. It was euphoric. The angle of their position was perfect for stimulating the ever growing approach of her release. She kept him aware of his progress by the increasing sound of her cries, the writhing of her body, the scrape of her nails across his shoulders.

"Jareth", she shuddered the precursory warning of her impending orgasm into his ear.

If it was possible, he seemed to penetrate her even deeper, moaning against her shoulder. "Come for me."

"Come with me", she whimpered. So close. She was so very close.

"Yes", he was losing his composure, thrusting harder, deeper, faster, "I will. Sarah."

"Oh fuck!"

The wave broke and her orgasm erupted, ripping through her in cascades of overwhelming bliss, pulsing, persisting, and then finally receding slowly. She felt his arms tighten around her as his own release shook through him. He groaned, thrusts becoming less rhythmic and more desperate before finally slowing to a sluggish end. His legs collapsed beneath them and they melted down into the warm waters. Resting his head back against the edge of the bath, he closed his eyes with a contented sigh, drawing her into his chest. She rested her head in the space between his neck and shoulder, relishing the blissful pulse of afterglow between her thighs and in her limbs. It felt so good being with him like this. She conceded to herself that the idea of leaving him was growing increasingly difficult, but that fact would best be kept to herself.

"Is it always like this?" she asked lazily.

He stroked her damp hair with his fingertips, "It is with me."

"Cocky bastard."

"Shall I prove it to you?"

Her head rose, "You couldn't even if you wanted to. It's too soon."

"Hmm", he hummed, lifting his head to kiss her, "I'll accept that challenge."

Eyes widening, she squealed as he lifted her, bending her over the edge of the tub to run his tongue up the length of her arching spine. In reality, he need not prove anything to her. She already believed full heartedly that his skills were a unique gift among men. But what would be the fun in telling _him_ that?


	5. The Spring

Sarah slowly slid her finger along the sweat-moistened skin of Jareth's chest and abdomen, beginning at his sternal notch and following an invisible path downward. Her head rested against his shoulder, his arm draped limply around her. Their legs tangled together in a comfortably woven nest at the foot of the large bed where they lay sprawled along the bottom edge; the only remaining place that was not damp from Sarah's wet hair and the sweat from their repeated love making. Jareth's head tilted back at an angle, hanging slightly off the edge of the mattress as he regained the strength needed to take her yet again. She watched as her finger followed the gradual rise and fall of his chest, traveling down along the small line of hair from his belly button to his pubic bone. He wasn't incredibly muscular, but instead displayed a lean athleticism in his physique which she found quite appealing. His stamina was particularly impressive, as was his keen attention to detail. He read her like an open book, drawing out her pleasure as easily as he juggled his crystal orbs about his graceful hands, and he did so with an ever growing diversity of skills.

His tongue and lips, his fingers, even his breath, they all drove her completely mad. His body had explored and stimulated every known inch of hers, and a few even she was unaware of. It was incredible how sensitive her ears were, and she delighted how the lightest tickle of breath down her back and the round of her ass could make her squirm with need. He was a god in human form, but even the gods required rest. Sarah lay next to him, trying to find a few hours of her own recovery before he awoke and they started again. But sleep escaped her, replaced instead by the deafening whirl of thoughts and questions. So many questions. And now there was the issue of her own building emotion, which she tried desperately to keep buried within.

But he wouldn't fuck her. It would be easier if he would just fuck her like a whore, like an easy one-night-stand. But he refused, as he had said from the very beginning when he told her 'No' in the bath. At the time she hadn't entirely understood the profound significance of such a response, but as she reflected over the past few hours, it became clear what he had intended. He made love to her. Deep, passionate, slow, beautiful, agonizing love making that focused more on her pleasure than his own. Their eyes locked, their bodies melted into one another, their moans and pants mingled in a symphony of growing ecstasy until their final simultaneous euphoric release. But he wouldn't fuck her.

Sarah sighed, circling her finger around his bellybutton. "Goddamnit, Jareth", she whispered.

The echoing _click-clack_ of what sounded like pebble falling upon stone came down the hallway and into the bedchamber where they lay wrapped about one another. She lifted her head quickly, long damp hair matted and tangled into a horrible knot. Her brows furrowed as she listened. Jareth stirred slightly, his head turning to one side with a drowsy smack of his lips. A gentle grin played at her lips as she studied him in his sleep. The stark black band about his eyes had appeared to fade slightly, but not in streaks as one might expect from worn makeup or face paint. It looked resembled an old tattoo that had dissolved within the flesh over time. Another noise attracted her focus back to the hallway, and as she turned her head to look, she barely caught sight of a bulky shadow glide across the corridor.

Sitting up quickly, she felt the hair on her arms and the back of her neck stand on end. She looked to her sword, nestled safely across the seat of Jareth's velvet upholstered chair. They had made love there as well. It was incredible. Shaking the recent memory off, she patted her sleeping lover lightly on the abdomen, "Jareth. Jareth." He hardly moved, groaning breathlessly in his sleep.

 _['Warszawa' by David Bowie]_

"Sssaarraahh…" The faint but unmistakable hiss of her name came through the open door, causing her to jump with a frightened gasp.

Her hand shook at Jareth, eyes remaining locked onto the low-lit hallway through the door, "Hey, wake up! Come on, wake up!" He was as incapacitated as a junkie in the midst of a good high, "Jareth, please!" Shifting her weight, she climbed over him and straddled his waist, shaking him violently with both hands, "WAKE. UP!"

"Sssarahhhfeeenn…"

Her breathing was heavy with fright. Jareth wouldn't wake, he couldn't. He only stirred and groaned, his naked body limp and sweaty from their prior efforts. Sarah glanced back to the doorway just as another shadow passed across the end of the hall where it came to a T. The candle flames wriggled in a tickling dance, confirming that something had indeed passed between them and that it was not post-coitus haze playing with her eyes.

"Sssarahhfeeennnaaaa…"

Sarah swallowed, climbing slowly from the bed and eyeing the doorway wildly as she quickly approached the elegant chest of drawers and rummaged for clothes. She donned a set of Jareth's tights and plain grey shirt, grabbing her sword as she edged her way into the hallway. Holding the weapon over one shoulder like a baseball bat, she worked to control her breathing, following the sound like rustling leaves from around the bend. She poked her head cautiously around the corner, scanning for the hissing intruder. Swallowing loudly, she creped along the wall in the direction opposite the dining hall. She hadn't been down this area of the castle yet, and the further she journeyed from Jareth, the more uneasy she became. Her pulse beat in a defining and accelerating rhythm as she slinked along the wall toward the disembodied hiss of her name. Part of her realized how foolish it was to venture off on her own, seeking out some unknown threat in the dark. But something else spurred her forward, something that burned in her belly and rattled in her bones. She _needed_ to follow the thing, just like she _needed_ to carry that heavy sword that was making her shoulders ache and her knuckles shake. Violet hues and dancing shadows from the candlelight played with her psyche, causing her to jump and gasp, rolling her eyes in response to her own childish apprehension. She had never been afraid of the dark before, why start now?

At the end of the long hall, she could just make out the golden border of a tall rectangular mirror hanging from the stone wall. Hand carved talons gripped each corner, seeming to guard the passage between reality and its inverted counterpart inside. Sarah paused when the faint apparition of human movement manifested before the mirror, turning its featureless attention to stare at her for a moment before stepping inside. She rushed forward, dropping the heavy weapon from its ready position to lug along at her side, her shoulder throbbing angrily. Approaching the mirror, her reflection came into view, which made her halt with a loud gasp. She glanced down at her body, loosely clothed in Jareth's garments, then back to her twin inside the glass. The woman wore an intricately crafted silver plated armor which hugged her contours as though it were molded straight onto her naked body. Instead of grieves or gauntlets, her arms were protected by a weaving mesh of small metal chain links which gave off an iridescent glow like the scales of a fish. Her legs were draped with long overlapping layers of thin leather, and on her head, a golden crown encrusted with lavender stones rested at the peak of long thick locks of dark hair. The woman grinned at Sarah, her green eyes winking in that knowing way she had seen from the portrait down the hall. Raising a hand, she beckoned her and turned on her leather booted heals to walk down in to the darkness of the castle corridors.

"Wait!" Sarah called after her. The woman turned, beckoning again with a wave of her hand. Sarah took a deep breath, shaking her head as she released it into a loud sigh, "Damnit, Sarah, you better know what you're doing." Her bare foot rose to the mirror, fully expecting it to meet resistance. Instead, the toe dipped in and sent a ripple over the surface like a pebble tossed into a pond. It was cool with the gentle tingle of electricity sending her baby hairs on alert. Progressing forward, she moved her entire leg through the wavering glass, followed by the rest of her body. On the other side, she found herself frozen with uncertainty. The other Sarah had disappeared down the hall, the faint crackle of firelight remaining as her only company.

"Sarah." The sound of her own voice spoke to her from the darkness, making her jump.

"Wh-what?" She responded nervously.

"Sarah Feena, come here."

She furrowed her eye brows, "Feena?"

"Come."

"I must be insane", Sarah sighed, cracking her knuckles before venturing forward again. When she came to the first turn, it occurred to her that it was situated in the opposite direction. The world around her was a mirror of the one she had just left. Even the portraits on the wall were an inverted reflection of their other-world counterparts. A grin played at the corner of Sarah's mouth as she considered her fall down the rabbit hole and current adventures through the looking glass. She hoped to god there would be no jabberwockies to deal with in her near future.

Rounding the corner, she caught sight of her twin walking slowly down the corridor ahead of her and disappearing in the direction of what would likely be the Escher staircase; now on the left rather than the right. Sarah picked up her pace slightly, feeling goosebumps spread along her skin. Just before she reached the archway, her raw nerves clenched at her gut, halting her in her tracks.

"Sarah Feena", her twin called her patiently.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before stepping into the archway. Cold dread filled her limbs. If the room wasn't already confounding enough, its reflection was practically dizzying. The armored princess ascended a flight of stairs over Sarah's head, suspended upside-down as Jareth would easily do. Sweat trickled down from Sarah's temple and over her cheek. She had a close her eyes to stop the world from spinning about her.

"Sarah Feena."

"Damnit, stop calling me that!" she snapped, opening her eyes. Her twin stood upon the ledge a floor above her, just across the room. There was no other path to her besides the inverted stairs she had just taken. "I can't do that."

"Why do you doubt yourself?" The woman's voice came to her without use of her mouth, like a song echoing in her head.

"I…I don't know…"

"Know yourself. Try." Sarah's eyes peered over the ledge where she stood, down into the vast emptiness of space. "Don't you know who you are, Sarah Feena?" the woman asked with an audible grin, though her face remained stoic and unchanging.

"I know I'll die if I fall."

"You won't fall."

"I will!"

"Try."

"UGH! Look crazy lady, I'll show you."

 _['Art Decade' by David Bowie]_

Approaching the nearest wall, Sarah placed her bare foot onto the stone and made to stand upon it, knowing that her point would be proven when it slid back down onto the floor. She pressed up through her leg, stood upon the wall, screamed and stepped back down. Laughter echoed throughout the room and she looked to her twin who stood motionless, staring through her with green eyes. Her angelic disembodied voice was strangely comforting. Looking back to the wall, she made another attempt at the wall, this time slowly and carefully stepping onto the wall with one leg, then two. Her surroundings righted themselves, and suddenly her horizontal orientation actually felt right-side-up, the way it had reacted when she had moved over the ledge with Jareth. The stairs the princess had taken were now in front of her, climbing up the wall to form the ceiling over where she had once stood. She situated one foot onto the bottom step, then the other onto the next, re-orienting as she began to follow them across the room. The stars were now her ceiling and solid stone formed the floor. The other woman waited patiently for her as she approached, smiling sweetly.

"That was incredible!" Sarah panted with a nervous laugh, looking back to observe where her path had begun.

Her armored companion nodded and turned on her heels, leading the way from the room of stairs. There was a calming presence about her, alluring and familiar in a way that Sarah couldn't quite understand. Besides resembling her, she reminded her of something she couldn't distinguish. It was fleeting, like the title of a song you can hear in your head but not recall the name of. She followed her through the halls to the throne room, pausing with a gasp as they entered. Rather than an vacant space as it was before, the room was now bustling with movement and noise. Goblins of every size and variety lined the walls, sat upon the window sills, chased one another along the floor, and crowded the pit in the center floor. They cackled and hooted amongst each other, blissfully unaware of the presence of the two women. The silent princess progressed forward through the room, stepping easily over and around the dynamic obstacle of scurrying and rolling bodies. Sarah remained frozen in the doorway, scanning the events before her with a small smile. Could this be where Jareth had sent his people to take refuge during the war? It was as if nothing had changed here.

Meanwhile, the other Sarah had made her way to the large stone throne at the opposite wall. Three steps formed the base leading up to the large seat with curved backing. She climbed them slowly, turning about to take a slow seat upon her perch with regal grace. Sarah felt herself smile. The image filled her with such an unexplainable joy, like the happy ending to a fairytale story.

"Sarah Feena."

All sound and movement halted abruptly. All eyes on her. Her smile faded and she shifted nervously before her attentive audience. Her twin sat tall, with perfect posture and hands draped gracefully over the armrests of her throne with picturesque poise.

Sarah cleared her throat. "Hello."

Every knee bent, every head bowed. "Sarah Feena", they all chanted in unison.

She looked to her twin with a gentle shake of her head, "Look, I'm really confused here. I have so many questions. Could you please-"

"-Come." The woman beckoned her forward with an elegant wave of her hand.

Sarah felt herself sigh with frustration, but comply with the request. The goblins rose from their kneeling positions, splitting like a sea before her to make a path to the throne. The princess held out her hand as she approached, smiling at her.

"Your blade." She said with motionless lips. "May I use it?" Sarah looked to the sword in her hand, lifting it to her twin who took the grip in both hands. "Kneel." Sarah's eyes scanned the still sea of onlookers surrounding her. One of them, an elderly one, nodded encouragingly to her. Sighing, she lowered down into a lunge until she rested upon one knee. Her head bowed low, feeling the broad edge of the blade rest heavily onto her right shoulder. "You forget yourself, Sarah Feena." The princess said, switching the blade to the left shoulder. "But we can help you. Rise."

Obediently she stood to her feet, shocked to find that the throne was now vacant. Sarah turned, glancing about for the princess, but she and her people had vanished. A gentle cool breeze blew through a nearby window once occupied by a snorting goblin. Outside, she could see the first blossoms of spring and great fluffy clouds gliding lazily along the blue sky.

"Hello? Where are you?" Only the echo of her own words answered her, followed by silence. "Come back!" Disappointment and growing anger boiled beneath her skin. "COME BACK!"

In a fit of frustration, she swung her sword, striking it at the throne and only just now realizing that she held it in her hand once again. Glancing down at it, she took notice of the metal chain sleeves which clung to each arm. She touched her chest, hand meeting the cold hard metal of armor. A leather skirt brushed her legs and she looked down at her feet to observe the protective boots. A faint glimmer caught her eye and she looked up to the seat of the throne to find the jewel encrusted crown at its center. Her hand reached out slowly for it, almost fearful of what would happen if she touched it.

"Sarah Feena." Jareth's voice startled her and she turned to find him staring at her from the throne room entrance.

"Jesus", she panted, clutching her chest. "You scared the shit out of me."

He smirked, leaning into the doorway and crossing his arms in his chest, "I'm not Jesus. Not god either, though you insisted on calling me that repeatedly."

"And I'm _not_ Sarah Feena." His playful expression faded. "Why does everyone here insist on calling me that?"

He pushed himself up from his casual resting position and strode toward her, eyeing the crown as he approached, "We should go. Without its queen, this world won't remain long. She sent me to find you."

"That's impossible! She was just here in front of me only seconds ago!" A loud rumbling shook the floor beneath their feet, showering bits of stone and dust down over them. Sarah sighed with exasperation, "Let me guess, now we have to run for our lives before the whole place comes crumbling down."

Jareth grabbed the crown in one hand, and her arm in the other, "More like before the glass shatters. Let's go!"

 _['Weeping Wall' by David Bowie]_

Another thunderous tremor erupted as they sprinted from the throne room and down the hall. Her armor _clinked_ and _clanked_ loudly with every heavy-footed step, her sword still held firmly in her grip. By the time they made it to the Escher room, it had already begun to fracture. Pieces of staircase floated and tumbled out into the great abyss. Without hesitation, Sarah leaped onto the nearest wall and skipped her way over cracks and loose stone to the staircase leading to the other side. Jareth paused to watch her with pleasant surprise, then followed quickly. She reached the ledge with ease and waited impatiently for him to join her, "Come on, come on!" He took the stairs two at a time, stumbling clumsily as the staircase suddenly broke in half. "Jareth!" she screamed, reaching out a hand for him. He gripped it and she pulled him to safety before his platform went spinning off into the starry nothing. They took off into another sprint, breathing heavily in their efforts to reach the golden frame where the mirror stood waiting at the end of the long hallway. The entire castle quaked around them. Jareth's hand pressed into the small of her back as they approached, nearly shoving her headlong through it with him close at her heels.

Sarah had expected the transition to be as smooth as it had before, like stepping through a doorway. But instead, the bottom fell from beneath her and she felt like she was plummeting through darkness. She opened her mouth to scream but the sound was strangled. Suddenly she found herself in the midst of a blood-stained battlefield. Her limbs moved of their own accord, wielding her sword as gracefully as in her dream. She was conscious behind her eyes, but completely without control, like a mere spectator in her own body. Armored goblins of tremendous size were fighting with other men and women around her, spilling blood with their weapons and getting cut down by others. It was all happening so fast. Her own sword jabbed through a few torsos, making her cringe from her passenger's seat. "Sarah Feena!" The shout came from behind her and she felt sick as her body whirled about toward the sound. A towering goblin stood just behind her, his broad sword held high and ready to strike her down with one swift blow. She groaned silently to herself as her body spun about a second time, slicing her sword across the creature's belly. It gurgled and fell to the ground at her feet.

Sarah acknowledged the soldier who had saved her life with a quick nod of her gratitude before returning to her skillful fighting tactics. The woman had appeared to be of thirty to thirty-five, African skin tone, and a petite frame. Her armor was similar in make and style to what the queen had left Sarah wearing only moments earlier, and her head was protected by a rather Romanesque helmet, though lacking the historic plume she had seen in books. Sarah's sword connected with the blade of a goblin's weapon, the two challenging one another over the sound of scraping metal.

"Fucking skink." He snarled at her, saliva dripping from his mouth and the odor of necrotic gums churning her stomach. "Go back to where you came from. This kingdom is ours."

Another goblin was approaching them to her right. Sarah felt herself recoil inside her own head to get away, but her limbs wouldn't respond. Her grip was shaking on her sword and the goblin in front of her was unrelenting, pressing all of his weight down against her with a deep cackle. At the last moment, her leg flew out to the side and caught the approaching attacker beneath his pointed chin, sending him flying backwards. It caught her challenger off guard just long enough to retract her sword and turn it, ramming it through his chest.

 _['Subterraneans' by David Bowie]_

The world became a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds, and suddenly all was still around her. Sarah blinked rapidly, trying to process what had just happened. Jareth's face was above her, speaking to her incoherently at first, then fading in like someone was slowly increasing the volume. "Sarah. Sarah, are you alright? Can you hear me?" She reached a hand to the side of her head and sat up. "Careful." He said. Shattered glass crunched about them on the hard floor. The golden mirror frame now stood empty and dull in its place, having observably lost its majestic luster. Jareth patted her shoulder lightly before gripping her beneath the shoulders to help her to her feet. The queen's crown was looped over his forearm like an oversized bracelet, and she eyed it angrily before turning her attention on him.

Her open palms planted into his chest, shoving him hard against the wall, " _Damnit_ Jareth!" His back slammed into the stone with an _oof_! She smacked his chest, "I'm sick and goddamned tired of all the secrecy and constantly running for my life in this godforsaken shithole you call a kingdom!"

"Careful."

"No! You're going to give me some fucking answers now or I'm going back home."

"We had an arrangement."

"Fuck your arrangement! Every bit of this has played out to suit you, what you want. Meanwhile I'm just a witless pawn. If this is your kingdom, why the fuck is it _my_ face on that painting?" Her finger pointed down the hall as his stern gaze challenged hers. "And why does this fucking crown belong on _my_ head? Why does everyone, including _you_ , call me Sarah _Feena_? Why do I carry that fucking sword around like I'll die without it? Why do I dream about it? Why do I see visions of fighting and killing with it? _Why_?" She shoved him over and over again. "Why? WHY?"

His hands shot up, gripping her wrists uncomfortably tight in his large fists, "Calm down."

She writhed and struggled in his grip, "Fuck you! Let me go! Asshole!"

"You're trying my patience."

She finally managed to wrench her hands from his grasp, "Fuck this and fuck you. I'm out of here. I'm going home."

"Really? And how will you get there?"

"I'll figure it out!" She threw him a profane gesture with her finger as she turned on her heels. "Have a nice life, Jareth. Stay out of mine."

She was retreating down the hall with long heavy strides when he called after her. "Because it isn't my kingdom!" Her pace halted and she turned to face him, shame etched upon his features clear as day. "It isn't mine." His voice was quiet and defeated. She could feel her temples begin to ache from the grinding of her teeth. Sliding the crown from his arm, he held it out to her, unable to look her in the eye. He knelt onto one knee and bowed his head low, resting one forearm over his thigh. "It's yours, my queen."

Sarah's arms crossed into her chest with a roll of her eyes, "Well, that's a nice conveniently obvious answer, isn't it? Why don't you try telling me the truth before I kick your teeth in?"

"You may well do that anyhow." His eyes finally rose to meet hers, a solemn plead buried within them. "Queen Sarah Feena"

"Oh this is all very poetic and magical." She said incredulously. "Sarah. Feena. Queen of the Goblins. Really?

He shook his head, "No no, not Sarah _Feena._ It's _…_ here, let me see your hand."

"Hell no!" she pulled away as he rose from his kneeling position to approach her. "The last time I did that you sliced my palm with a knife!"

"I won't cut you, you brat, just-"his hand caught hers, spelling out letters onto her palm with the tip of his finger. "S-e-r-a-p-h-i-n-a. _Seraphina_. Queen of the Ninth Kingdom." He brought her hand over his chest devotedly, "Sera." A strange sense of déjà vu was playing with her, toying with her mind, but still she recalled nothing of what he was telling her. Though somehow, deep down, she believed him. It made her nauseous. She swallowed hard and backed away from him slowly. He held the crown to her again, "Put it on. You will recall who you are and more." Her green eyes studied him for a long while before moving to the item in his hand. She took it slowly, rolling it around nervously between her hands. Taking a deep breath, she raised it up over her head.

"Sera", Jareth stopped her briefly, kissing her gently. "I move the stars for you and you alone."

She looked into his eyes one final time, and lowered the crown onto her head.

 **So, I got a little bit Low-happy on this one. Such a good album, though! Man, I miss him…**


	6. The Introduction

_['Never Get Old' by David Bowie]_

Once again, Sera became a spectator inside her own body like a silent viewer at the movie screening of her life. The one she had forgotten. She stood in a dark room lit by candle light, a bunker lined with weapons and provisions. Armored men and women lounged casually. Some moved large crates across the room, and others slept on blankets upon the floor. Sera and four others gathered about a round table, discussing the strategies of war with miniature representations of the two opposing sides spread out along a foreign crumpled map. With a sigh, the woman scratched her dark scalp and leaned into her arms over the scene.

"Flank this side" she said finally, "Gailan and I will take the front and push them back to the lake."

Gailan, the female soldier whom Sera recognized from the more recent battle scene in her mind's eye, stood to her left and nodded silently at the orders provided. The hair on her head had been shaved down to the root and she maintained a fierce expression fit for a warrior even given her dainty physique. Two men stood across from them eyed the map pensively.

"Perhaps it would be best if we used force from the West instead", he suggested with a point. "That may drive them to a point of advantage on our end. The rough terrain of the mountains could destabilize their lumbering statures."

Sera felt her head shake side to side in opposition, "The mountains will provide them with rock and bolder which they could use against us. But swimming, I've never met an algorn goblin that could swim. They're too massive." He appeared agreeable to this notion. "And there's something else. The queen has contracted with the trystians. They'll be assisting us in defensive tactics-"

"-Trystians?" the younger of the two men cut her off. "Surely she has more faith in us than that? We don't need magical fairies to-"

"-We need all the help we can get, Sergeant" she interjected firmly. "Let's not let racial pride intervene with necessary alliances."

The Sergeant recoiled with a nod, "Yes, Commander."

"Seraphina", a female voice addressed her from behind. She turned to find a woman with a blonde shoulder-length braid approach from the doorway to the bunker. Behind her, two more women and three men followed. The entire group displayed colorful war paint resembling a large blue and red lightning bolt over the right eye, extending from mid hairline and ending at a point on the lower cheek. "I'm first Lieutenant Kyan, I was sent by our queen to extend initial assistance until full forces are cleared to join."

"Ah, Kyan! Yes, I was told you would be here." The women exchanged a polite greeting by placing one hand to their chests near the clavicle, the other palm in front of their faces, fingers aligned upward and pressed together. They shared and modest bow in this position before returning to their military posture. "Thank you for coming so soon."

"I have someone I'd like you to meet", Kyan said, stepping aside to extend an arm behind her. A man stepped forward, shoulder-length copper hair blazing atop his head. He and Seraphina shared another display of the foreign exchange as Sera watched on internally from her passenger's seat, nearly choking on her own gasp when she realized who the man was. "Jareth, Captain of the Guard to our queen. She has assigned him and his services to your command, Seraphina. We're here to help. It has become clear that the fate of our people rests just as heavily upon the outcome of this war as it does your own. He's by far our most talented warrior, use him well."

Externally, Sera was nodding politely and expressing gratitude for his assistance. Internally, she was suppressing the urge to explode with laughter. How young he was! How utterly contrary from the way she had always known him! _And that hair._ She would not have even recognized him if it had not been for his eyes. Both her internal and external states seemed to be lost in them as he was lost in hers. After a moment, they both blinked and averted their stares to the dingy floor of the bunker. Sera felt her cheeks burn as a deep blush flushed her external face. Clearing her throat, she returned to the table to professionally brief the newcomers on their plans for the following day.


	7. The Council

['Five Years' by David Bowie]

Sera, Gailan, and Jareth filed into the large room along with the large crowd of other weary soldiers to sit before what remained of the designated council. Since their alliance, Trystian and Skalcus leaders had bonded to form the Peace Council of Kingdoms. It was a democratic body which would convene to deliberate and debate upon the higher decisions and fates of both worlds in a manner which was beneficial to all nine of the known galactic kingdoms. Some consideration had been paid to the discovery of a possible tenth kingdom in recent years, but that notion had been placed on the back burner under the stresses of war. The trio edged through the many seats and found a place where they could sit quietly together in the back of the room. Sera sighed with exasperation as she took her seat, Gailan to her left, Jareth to her right where they had remained both physically and metaphorically for the past 112 years, 5 months, and two days. Of the five council members who remained, there were two to represent the Skalcus Kingdom where Sera and Gailan called home, and three for Jareth's Trystian Kingdom. Lieutenant Kyan, one of the three, stood and held a hand in the air to quiet the pulsing crowd. There were a few shushes and low mutterings, then the room fell silent.

"Welcome", she addressed the room with diplomatic elegance. "My brothers and sisters, we have all suffered greatly. The war has ended, but I know we will continue to mourn the fallen who have so generously sacrificed their immortality for the greater good. May we greet them all again in another kingdom not yet discovered."

Kyan's eyes traced the room briefly before continuing. "To our Skalcus companions, our hearts are heavy in your hours of grief. Queen Damaris will be celebrated throughout our history as the woman who brought peace and alliance between our races. I am optimistic that our new bond will be cherished and affectionately maintained throughout eternity."

Sera and Jareth shared a quick glance as Kyan spoke. "It is difficult to move forward. I know you are weary and sorrowful, but the war has finally ended, and now we must unite to determine the fate of the Ninth Kingdom. With the Algorn's defeated, I have met with the elder of the Lucraine Clan of goblins and we have come to a mutual agreement. Colonization of the kingdom and destruction of its ancient cultures will be resisted, possibly even violently if necessary, and opposition to another war was a point of agreement between us both. Instead, the Lucraine Clan has agreed to adopt a matriarchal dominion. They ask that we cast our nominations for their new ruler. If said ruler is unsuccessful at gaining the support of the collective clans, they will be overturned and a new ruler shall be negotiated. Much like our own democracy."

The room erupted into incoherent rumbles. The trio of companions at the back of the room looked to one another with nervous shifts in their seats. Kyan held her hand in the air and raised her voice with regal patience. "Our continued presence within the Ninth Kingdom will not only provide protection for the peaceful clans who reside there, but it will also ensure security for the well-being of our own kingdoms. Destabilization of the lands from the Algorn Clan influence nearly destroyed their world, and subsequently would have impacted every known galactic kingdom. This is why we fought. This is why our brothers and sisters perished, why your queen was assassinated. This is what we _must_ prevent in the future."

Sera sighed and leaned onto her knees with her elbows, feeling Jareth's supportive pat upon her shoulder as she rubbed her gritty tired eyes with her knuckles. They were all exhausted, but not once had her companions ever left her side or questioned her guidance. Some days, she felt they knew her better than she knew herself.

"So without further ado, I will cast my nomination for the seat of Queen of the Ninth Kingdom and all of its inhabitants." There was a light pause before Kyan raised her voice across the room, "Jareth." Sera's heart stopped. There was murmuring throughout the room again. "Where is your Skalcus Commander? Where is Seraphina?" Sera's eyes widened and she covered her mouth with both hands as she stared blankly at the floor, motionless. The hand on her shoulder gripped her gently, pulling her slowly up into sitting. "Ah, there you are, Commander." Five hundred and twenty heads were turned to face her where she sat in bewilderment. "I cannot think of a more qualified and compassionate ruler for the goblin clans than you, Seraphina. You lead us to victory and saved us from another hundred years of needless death and destruction. The clans respect and trust you as do I. I nominate you for queen."

Sera swallowed down a bolus of sickness rising in her throat but was otherwise paralyzed against providing any kind of response. Jareth's hand still rested upon her shoulder, the weight of it providing some sense of comfort. An eternal silence seemed to enchant the room. Sera's heart beat so wildly in her chest, she was certain everyone could hear it.

"I second the nomination", one of the Skalcus council members rose from their seats with a respectful bow.

"I third", added a Trystian.

The effect ignited a brushfire of supportive responses and applause from the audience. It appeared all in the room were in favor of the notion at hand. Gailan and Jareth were the only two who still sat in silence at Sera's side. She glanced to her right where Jareth challenged the floor with a solemn gaze. To her left, Gailan maintained her stoic outward appearance, but after 112 years, Sera could sense her inner turmoil. Without speaking, each of them seemed to know what the other was thinking. The deafening cacophony began to die down around them at the request of the council leader, and everyone returned to their seats.

"Sera", Kyan's voice was soft and pleading. "I know what I ask and what it means for you, but our nations need you. We need your selfless diplomacy and nurturing guidance. None other than you is equip for this task. Do you accept?"

Sera spared one last glace to her right. Her dearest friend, her guardian and private council had not removed his eyes from the floor. It was not in his right to speak on this matter, and she knew it, but she desperately wished he would. As if by some telepathic communication, Jareth seemed to hear her screaming at him.

 _What should I do? Jareth, what should I do? What about…us?_

His eyes lifted to hers. While there had never been romantic tendencies between the pair to even suggest they might have shared something more intimate after the war, there was no denying that a century of companionship had forged a bond much more profound than anyone in the room or on the council could ever comprehend. If she accepted, she would lose him. Him and Gailan. And they all knew it.

"Do it", he whispered with a forced grin of approval.

"Sera?" Kyan pressed.

Sera swallowed again and took a deep breath, rising slowly from her seat to look over the sea of eyes awaiting her decision. Her focus returned to Kyan who shifted with nervous anticipation, her blue eyes pleading from behind her lightning bolt face markings.

"I accept."


	8. The Vows

_['Sara' by the other love of my life, Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac]_

Sera stared at herself in the long mirror as her long hair was braided, curled, and decorated with long pink and lavender ribbons, bells, and flowers. The soldier in her wanted to scoop the hair into her fist and slice it off with her sword along with the ridiculous floor-length velvet dress she wore. There was a knock at the door and one of the two women torturing her turned to give a gentle, "Come in, please." Gailan pushed the door open and immediately stifled a laugh through her nose with a wide smile, concealing it behind her hand. Sera squinted her eyes with a playful threat at her reflection. Gailan cleared her throat and struggled to keep her smirk to a minimum as she crossed her arms in her chest casually. A crown of baby rose buds was placed upon Sera's polished head and one of the women dabbed aggressively at her cheek with a peachy-pink powder, making her sneeze.

"Sorry m'lady", the woman cooed. "You're ready. We'll come get you when it's time."

They gathered their brushes and blushes and left the round tower room, closing the door behind them. Sera stood from her seat and wiped at some of the blush upon her cheek to fade it, grimacing into the mirror. "I look utterly ridiculous", she growled.

Gailan finally released the laughter she had been containing and strode to her, wrapping her arms about her waist from behind and placing her delicate little chin onto her shoulder. Sera grinned and hugged her arms, lowering her head onto Gailan's bald crown which had actually been somewhat groomed for the occasion. "You look like a queen", she whispered. The last word was strangled, as if it was painful to say.

"I can't do this, Gailan", Sera choked.

The petite warrior, dressed in a long elegant gown of yellow and grey, turned her so they were facing one another. Sera was tall, even for a woman, and towered over her friend. "Yes, you can", she said with watery eyes. "You've always been a queen, Sera."

"I'm nothing without…", Sera's throat was becoming tighter. It was becoming more difficult to breathe, "I can't live without you two. I need you in my life."

Gailan placed a palm over her chest, "I'm in here. I'll never leave you, my commander, my queen."

That did it. Wrapping their arms about one another in a firm embrace, the women sobbed and rocked, cradling each other as if for the last time. After all, it just might be. Gailan was the first to break the bond, reaching to grab a cloth and dab Sera's eyes.

"Stop it, now. You'll ruin your…this beautiful…what _did_ they do to you?" The two women exploded with laughter. "You really do look ridiculous."

Sera shoved her playfully in the arm, snatching the cloth so she could wipe away some of the thick makeup in the mirror, "Hush you, I was a helpless victim."

"No more than I am having to look at you like that."

More laughter lightened the sorrow in the room the way it had on countless nights during the war when the three of them would sit about a fire and share stories, poking fun at one another until dawn. There was a knock at the door just as Sera was dabbing away the last streaks of running black eye makeup and red lip stain. One of her decorators entered with a bow, "It's time."

An hour later, Sera was nervously cracking her knuckles just outside the throne room of the massive castle where she would live throughout eternity. For all its great size, it felt like a suffocating cage shackling her to the floor. Her limbs trembled. It was hard to breathe. The most important political figures of all three kingdoms were seated comfortably inside, awaiting the start of the ceremony. The Lucraine Clan elder caught sight of her as she peeked her head cautiously around the edge of the archway, bowing his head to her respectfully. She grinned awkwardly and retreated back behind the wall with a groan, "Can't do this, can't do this."

"Ready, Seraphina?" Kyan approached from down the hall, adorned in a shimmering white and gold dress. It brushed the ground as she walked, leaving a trail of gold glitter in its wake. All the garb resembled fashion from Earth's renaissance age, though with a magical flair. Even Sera's dress seemed to display an unworldly flow and ripple about her as she moved, making her appear as though she were soaring through the air. Kyan reached for Sera's hand, squeezing it affectionately with a smile, "You will be a historic idol of your people, my friend. This kingdom needs your grace."

Sera shrugged humbly, "I don't know how graceful I am."

 _['Sisters of the Moon' by Stevie Nicks (Fleetwood Mac)]_

"You have always been more than a warrior, Seraphina. It's time you realized your true worth." Pulling gently on her hand, she began to guide her into the room. The seated audience stood respectfully when they entered, and tiny bells chimed a small triumphant song as they flowed by. To Sera's great surprise, Jareth stood patiently beside the throne, hands clasped together over the pommel of her sword as he rested into a wide stance. The point of the long blade balanced upon the floor and he grinned at her as they approached. Kyan leaned into Sera's ear, "I have a surprise for you."

There had been no formal rehearsal for this ceremony, which made Sera feel all the more awkward in her movements. When they reached the base step of the throne, Kyan released her hand and gently grabbed her by the shoulders to turn her toward the audience. "Please sit." The crowd obeyed silently. Sarah swallowed nervously. "Brothers and sisters, we are called here to acknowledge the beginning of a new age of peace. May our kingdoms never see bloodshed again."

There was a low mummer of agreement amongst those in attendance. "Today, our brave commander will become an eternal queen. She will devote her immortality to this world, a sacrifice not many of us are so willing to endure." Sera wanted to scream. She would no more easily endure her shackles than they would, but obligation held her tongue. "Jareth, may I have the blade?" He lifted the sword and carefully handed it over, supporting the fuller with one hand so she could safely grasp onto the grip. Facing the audience again, she held the weapon high in the air, "May this blade never taste blood again." There was another motion of agreement. She lowered the sword and turned to Sera. "Commander, please kneel."

She obeyed, and internally, the passenger Sera recalled how the Mirror Queen had performed the same ritual only minutes earlier. Once again the broad edge of the blade was placed onto her shoulder, "Seraphina, do you swear to pledge your immortality to his kingdom? And by doing so, become its wife, and mother to its people? Will you remain chaste and pure, free of bodily pollutants which may destroy the integrity of your judgment as well as this world? Do you swear it?"

 _['Storms' by Stevie Nicks (Fleetwood Mac)]_

Sera felt terribly uneasy. Her stomach churned and the world spun. Her heart beat loudly. Sweat trickled down the side of her face. Jareth cleared his throat and she moved her eyes from Kyan to him, a sudden sense of overwhelming peace enveloping her. A small grin played at his lips, and even in the midst of everything happening around her, all she could think of was the fact that the absence of his facial war markings allowed his mismatched eyes to radiate. This was a Trystian trait, eyes of two varying dilations. It allowed them to see auras and appreciate electromagnetic energy in the air. But his had always seemed to do so much more, like they could peer into her mind and her soul. He was the only person in nine kingdoms who could ground her so completely.

"Seraphina?" Kyan's voice brought her back to reality.

Sera blinked with a nod, "I swear it."

The Trystian woman lifted the sword from her right shoulder, placing it onto the left, "And do you dedicate your mind and body to the well being of this world, such that your peace shall be its peace, your turmoil its turmoil? In this way, no harm can come to it so long as you remain pure."

"I swear, I mean…I do."

The blade's weight was lifted, "Stand please."

As Sera rose, her toes and fingers began to tingle. She thought at first she had stood too quickly, but as she clenched her fists, she felt the low vibration of electricity begin to hum through her limbs. It traveled up into her belly, forcing out a gentle giggle which she interrupted immediately, turning red with embarrassment. The sensation crawled all over her, standing her hairs on end like static. Her bones began to glow beneath her skin, hotter and brighter, then suddenly everything ended. Sera looked at her palms, then to Kyan.

The woman gave her a solemn smile, "You are now one with this world, the day and the night, the sun and the rain. Nothing short of death itself can break this bond. Do you understand?"

Sera was familiar with this notion. It was the burden carried by all queens of the other eight kingdoms. She would spend eternity as a deity to her world. She would be feared and respected, but she would never marry. She would not bear children. She would never be free of her cage.

She would never know love.

Wiping a rogue tear from her cheek, Sera nodded. Kyan placed a hand onto her shoulder, the other guiding the way to the throne. Sera climbed the steps like they led to her execution. Turning to stand in front of the seat, she reached back for the armrests and lowered herself slowly down. Kyan retrieved the gold crown from its pedestal and held it high for those in the room to see before placing it gently upon Sera's head. She leaned down to her ear, lowering her voice so only she could hear, "It is our sacrifices that make us who we are, Sera. And you are the greatest woman I have ever known." She stood again to address the audience, "Queen Seraphina of the Ninth Kingdom and its people."

The room erupted with applause and hooting. Sera caught the blurred eyes of a few of the women, and even a couple of the men. The internal Sera was sobbing from her viewing seat, recalling the unbearable pain of that day. To her, it felt more like a funeral than a celebration.

In a way, it was.

"Lastly, the council and I have come to an agreement regarding the protection of our youngest queen", said Kyan with a new lighthearted bounce in her tone. "With all due respect for your skill with the sword, as well as the gift of efficient healing that is known of your Skalcus race, we worry what may happen in these early years if we were to leave you here alone." Sera's heart leapt into her throat. She could have screamed with joy. "So, we have asked our best warrior to remain at your side as he has done for these many years throughout the war. He will stay here as your guardian, and vow his life to you as you have vowed yours to your people. Jareth, will you please kneel before your queen and take her hand?"

Jareth came to the edge of the stairs, both he and Sera working with all their might to suppress their joyous smiles. Reaching up to her, he took her hand in his. She squeezed him hard, the familiar electric glow beginning to build between them. Their eyes locked and nothing else in the world mattered. Sera knew an eternity would feel like hours in his eyes, and her heart was no longer breaking.

"Jareth", there was an audible smile on Kyan's lips as she spoke, and many sniffles could be heard coming from the crowd. "Do you swear allegiance to your queen and vow to protect her from all harm? Will you sacrifice your life to spare hers? And will you remain by her side throughout her reign in this world?"

He responded without hesitation, "I swear." His thumb stroked the back of her hand gently and they finally dared to share their brilliant smiles.

"And Jareth, you understand that your Trystian blood provides you with the gift of manipulation and influence over other living things. Therefore, in order to protect our young queen should you break your vows and crave the power of her throne, we will strip you of this ability. Please repeat after me: I have no power over you."

It was apparent that he had not expected this twist in the commitment, but the apprehension was short lived, "I have no power over you, Sera."

"You will maintain your other abilities in the best interest of guarding our queen. Thank you, Jareth."

"Thank _you_ ", he whispered.

The pleasant warmth and vibrating glow of their joined hands reached a violent climax before finally fading away. A deafening applause filled the room again, and everyone stood to cheer their support. Jareth kissed the back of Sera's hand and found his post beside her at her throne. From the hallway, Gailan entered the room carrying a long velvet purple robe. Sera pulled her old friend into a long embrace and kissed the salty moisture of her tear-stained cheek. The robe was laid heavy over her shoulders and she returned to her seat as the entire room bowed at her feet. The elder goblin lifted his head within the crowd, and suddenly the internal Sera realized who it was. It was the encouraging goblin from her short time in the mirror realm. She felt herself return his kind smile. He had believed in her then, and he believed in her still.

The junky was a queen.


	9. The Queen of Hearts

Sera pondered alone, as she often did, her regal dress becoming muddied as she sat on the moist ground by the crystal clear lake. Her knees were drawn into her chest and she rested her chin upon them, occasionally flicking pebbles from the bank into the water. It was so brilliantly clean and transparent that one could follow the descent of the pebble until rested at the shallow bottom. A few brightly colored fish scurried about, hoping that the objects hitting the surface of their watery world might somehow be tiny morsels of food, much to their disappointment. A light but steady drizzle dampened the air, and by this point, Sera's long braided mane had become quite matted and heavy. The skies were overcast by gloomy clouds, but the sun peaked in just over them from time to time. An airy flapping of wings disturbed the small patches of grass where she sat, and she glanced to her left with a grin. A snowy owl with large obsidian orbs was perched upon a small broken branch imbedded into the sand. It studied her with inquisitive interest, craning its flexible neck so that its head was twisted nearly upside down. He knew this would always bring a smile to her face.

"Stop that", she said softly, smiling and averting her eyes to the waters where she tossed in another sinking pebble. "You'll strain something."

"My, what a dreary week this has been", Jareth's voice indicated the fact that he had transformed into his true form, seated on the ground next to her. His appearance had changed multiple times over the many years. Currently, his hair was cut short on the sides and longer on the top. The copper color had faded into a strawberry blonde with light blonde streaks weaving in and out from the bangs. Sera imagined he must become bored easily as he was constantly reinventing himself. Perhaps it was his own way of coping with their eternal post. Some days she found herself green with envy of the goblins' mortality.

With a grimace, he reached beneath him and pulled the branch free, lobbing it far out into the waters with a splash. He drew his knees up like hers and rested his forearms over them casually. "I don't think we've seen a day of sunshine."

Sera sighed deeply, "I know. I'm sorry."

"The festival is today" he mentioned, nudging her sideways with his shoulder. Every year the goblins through a grand celebration to remember the day the war ended.

She nodded, "And Halchyma had her babies."

"Have you seen them?"

"They're beautiful."

A tear escaped the inner corner of her left eye and trickled down her cheek as the rain began to fall more heavily. Placing and arm about her shoulders, he drew her in close to him. "Old friend, you are stronger than you know. No one would blame you for mourning your freedom. You need not mourn alone."

The rain lightened slightly as he lay his cheek onto her head. She closed her eyes and grinned, "I'm glad you're here with me, Jareth. Thank you for sacrificing your own freedom for me."

A long silence passed between them before he responded in a faint whisper, "It was not an entirely selfless act, milady."

Hours later, Sera and Jareth were cleaned and donned in new garb fit for a festival. The sun was finally beaming brightly in the sky, painted on a canvas of rich blue and not a cloud to be seen. Many tents and stages had been erected on the grounds just beyond the gates of the Goblin City. The internal Sera was surprised to note that there was no Labyrinth surrounding the castle, only a vast rolling field of silky green grass which waved in the cool breeze. The Queen walked amongst her people, greeting elders and kissing babies as music played on every stage. There was food, dancing, crafting, and a scheduled reenactment of the end of the battle in which goblins would play the parts of Sera, Jareth, and Gailan. It was an annual bittersweet reminder of the friend they missed so deeply.

After two hundred years of peace in the Ninth Kingdom, Jareth and Sera began to wonder if they would ever reunite with their friend, or anyone of their own races, again. No one came. Travel between kingdoms was difficult and treacherous. One might easily find themselves on another plane of existence, in another space and time, unable to find home. There was some rumor that those who had not returned had ended up in some other kingdoms not yet discovered. Since the end of the war, existence of the Tenth Kingdom had been confirmed, though very few had scouted the region. One such adventurer was a Trystian man who had returned with souvenirs for each of the nine queens. Sera had received a child's storybook from the newly discovered world entitled 'The Labyrinth'. The gift had been purposely chosen for her due to the details of a goblin kingdom within the tale. The author of the book had named the goblin world The Underground. It was a beautiful story of adventure and love, though she would have admittedly liked to alter the ending. In the tale, the young heroine had succumbed to the powers of the cruel Goblin King in exchange for the return of her infant brother to what they called the Human World. She became his queen and lived in servitude. If Sera had written the book, the girl would have realized her own immense power and refused the King's offer. She would have won and returned triumphantly home with her brother. Still, the story moved her and brightened her darkest days. She kept it on her person at all times.

Sera thoroughly enjoyed the activities of the festival. She laughed and clapped along with the music, indulged in the rich food, and accepted many hand-crafted gifts from giggling children who adored her and tugged at her dress for attention. The reenactment was the main attraction of the day, and all would attend. Goblins filled the seats of the small wooden stadium, clamoring over the risers and calling out to the mobile vendors for more food and drink as they waited for the show to begin. Sera took her seat in the private balcony area built for her, Jareth standing by her side. The reenactment had been presented many times over the past century, but the performers did try to invent something new and fresh in the form of music or costume each year. This year, the goblins had opted for a thundering soundtrack of booming percussion and wildly chiming bells. The audience cheered as the actress playing Sera sprinted bravely onto the battlefield, and fell over themselves with laughter as Jareth's actor entered. A fiery copper wig sat lop-sided upon his head and he juggled three to four crystal balls about in the air like a circus clown. Losing his footing, he dropped one onto his toe with a yelp. The crowd guffawed and even Sera found herself clutching her ribs, her body rocking violently with laughter. The real Jareth smiled and crossed his arms into his chest, shaking his head at his queen who could not seem to catch her breath.

The comical battle ensued and Gailan's actress whirled about the chaos, cutting enemies down left and right. The large Algorn Clan was represented by pairs of the smaller Lucraine goblins who stumbled about the battle field with a partner seated clumsily atop their shoulders. A few of them were knocked from their perches and went tumbling down into the muddy ground which was still soggy from the morning rain. The drums beat to a thundering rhythm and the crowd booed as three goblins wobbled onto the field, stacked one on top of the other to represent the massive leader of the Algorn Clan. Food was tossed onto the stage ground and children were screaming for Sera to "Kill 'im! Kill 'im!" Sera's goblin double approached the enemy with her sword in hand. The top goblin of the stack swung a long branch at her which was costumed to appear like the extending arm of the Algorn leader. It made contact and she was thrown backward theatrically by use of many summersaults, tucks, and rolls. Her body lay motionless on the ground as the crowd protested loudly. The Algorn approached slowly, lifting its great axe overhead to cut her in two. Children screamed from the stands, "Get up, Queen Sera!" The actress lifted her head and eyed the approach of her death with wild eyes, trying to scramble backwards to retrieve her sword only a few feet away.

At the last moment Jareth's goblin rushed in, hitting the Algorn with a few clumsily thrown crystal balls. They exploded like water balloons upon contact, sprinkling the beast with cascades of glitter. Sera screamed with laughter from her balcony seat. When Jareth had actually saved her life in that battle, his crystal orbs had ignited into three roaring phoenixes made of orange and yellow flames. They had swooped and attacked the enemy, singeing his skin and burning out his eyes. But the glitter was a welcomed and comical alternative in the story for the children's sake. The Algorn actors stumbled, and the top goblin covered his hands over his eyes with a painful howl. The crowd cheered, "Yay, Jareth!"

Then enter Gailan the Brave. She leaped onto the back of the great beast, pulling him down from his footing and crashing to the ground. It had been a much easier task for her than it had been for the real Gailan. She had been flung two and fro by the monstrous creature. It had reached overhead and bludgeoned her a few times with the butt end of its axe, but her grip remained firm. When she finally managed to pull him down he had landed upon her leg, fracturing it in three places. It took only hours for her to heal, but the pain had been excruciating. With the Algorn actors down upon the ground, the Sera goblin took up her sword and ran at them. She leaped into the air and the plastic blade of her sword came down with the loud crack of a whip, provided by the musical section of the show. Fake blood sprayed the air and she reached down to lift the Algorn leader's head with a triumphant yell. The crowd cheered and bounced in the stands.

Jareth was bent forward with laughter, holding onto his abdomen with one hand. When Sera's opportunity had been presented in the actual battle, she had leaped upon the Algorn's chest and rammed her sword down into the burned socket of its eye. There was no spray of blood and she had not screamed in her victory. She had sat there for a long while, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. Jareth watched from Gailan's side as the surviving Algorns began retreating. With their leader dead, the battle was over. Seraphina had defeated the enemy and the war was won. After 112 years of fighting, suddenly it was done. She looked back to Jareth and Gailan with bewilderment in her eyes, opened her mouth to speak, swayed to the side, and collapsed onto the blood-stained ground. But even Sera had to admit that this version better served all of them. Well, perhaps with the exception of Jareth's glittery performance.

The festival continued on long into the night while Sera and Jareth finally made their way back up to the castle. The stars were scattered in a brilliant array along the darkened sky, and the transparent moon provided adequate lighting for them without need for fire or magic. The two friends remained silent for most of the walk through the Goblin City, but thoughts had been passed between them. They missed Gailan. They missed their friend.

"Will we see her again?" Sera asked as they entered the great double doors. She paused and turned to look at Jareth when he neglected to answer. His expression was solemn. "Just lie to me." She pleaded.

His hand rose to her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb, "I've never lied to you. I won't begin now."

It wasn't uncommon for the pair to share tender moments such as these, but for the first time in all their years together, Sera felt the burning of something deeper than devoted friendship beneath her skin. It churned her stomach and sent her head spinning. Her eyelids grew heavy as she looked into his eyes, and without thinking, suddenly her lips here against his. Neither of them moved for a few moments. It was if both of them needed to process what was happening. She felt his hand leave her face and both hands grip her by the shoulders, pulling her into him and deepening the kiss. Her fingers found purchase on his shirt and held on for stability against the whirling of her senses.

"No", he broke the kiss abruptly. "I'm sorry, we can't do this. It's against our vows."

Sera was admittedly disappointed, but she nodded her head in agreement. She loved her friend dearly, but until now it had never once occurred to her that she may indeed be _in love_ with him. None of it mattered, really. He was right. Their courtship was forbidden. Even the kiss they had just shared was a sin against their commitments. Silently, Jareth walked with her to her room.

"Goodnight, Jareth", she whispered, lingering at the door before shutting herself behind it.

"Goodnight, my queen", he said, placing a hand into the door frame and leaning his weight into his arm. His head bowed and he stared at the floor outside her bedchamber for a long time before finally pushing away. Turning on his heels, he slowly made his way toward his own room. "Queen of my heart."


	10. The Dance

_['What Do You Want From Me?' by Pink Floyd]_

Queen Seraphina sat patiently upon her throne, acknowledging the two opposing accounts of quarreling goblins. Odel, and elderly male, was accusing his young female neighbor, Zalka, of stealing land from his family's property. Both owned farm lands on the outskirts of the city, beyond the rolling fields of grass and over the hill. They had inherited their estates from the many generations before them, and for the first time in all those many years, the two families where coming to petty odds over a mere arm's length of land.

"Then just last week", Odel debated his position, "she put up an unauthorized fence an' told me if I should take it down, she'd send 'er sons to my door. Them boys has Algorn blood in 'em, I just knows it!. They're huge!"

"I did no such thing!" Zalka protested.

"You did!"

"You lie!"

"My people", Sera interjected with a cool nurturing tone, raising a hand into the air as she had observed Kyan do so many years ago. Many of her diplomatic behaviors were a simulation of what she had learned from the Trystian woman. "We are a nation of peace. Let us not quarrel with our brothers and sisters over matters so insignificant. I shall have the plot of land in question measured and divided evenly between the two of you, and we shall hear no more of this." Her green eyes darted admonishingly between the fuming pair of goblins who stood with their arms folded into their chests like tempering toddlers. "Love thy neighbor as I have loved you, and this kingdom with flourish. Quarrel, and we shall perish."

Jareth stood by her side at her throne, working hard to suppress a smile. He was ecstatically proud of his queen. For all the innumerable accounts such as these, she had never once ruled unfairly or even raised her voice to her people in anger. To ensure that her judgments were deemed to be in favor of all parties, she had adopted use of a public jury to these proceedings. She preached a message of love and earned love in return. Her people adored her.

"All those in favor of this motion?" Sera addressed the jury. All hands raised a unanimous vote. Even Odel, who's vote did not count, expressed his approval.

"It's not fair!" Zalka insisted with a stamp of her foot. "This is what we get fer bowin' our empty heads to a fuckin' Skink an' 'er pet fairy!"

A horrified gasp spread throughout the room. Jareth took an indignant step forward, but Sera placed a hand onto his abdomen to stop him. 'Skink' was a derogatory term reserved for members of the Skalcus race. It was invented by the Algorn Clan and had not been uttered since the end of the war. But goblins were mortal and the war had ended many centuries before Zalka's time. It was well known that there remained small fractioned groups of Algorn supporters throughout the kingdom, but for their own good, they had remained relatively silent.

"Sister Zalka, where did you learn that term?" Sera asked quietly.

"I ain't yer sister… _Skink_."

A member of the jury stood bolt upright with a fling of his finger, "Cease her!"

"Treason!" another shouted.

Soon the room was erupting with a collection of angry voices crying out for justice, punishment, even death. Sera placed her hands into the armrests of her throne and shot up to her feet.

"ENOUGH!" A tremendous gust of wind penetrated the windows from outside, and the room fell silent, every eye on her. Jareth's infuriated gaze was focused onto Zalka who suddenly looked terrified. Sera could see her trembling where she stood. She lowered her voice to its gentle melody, "There will be no punishment. Zalka, I have disappointed you, and for that I am truly sorry. But I am the appointed ruler of this kingdom. My decisions are made in the best interested of _all_ my children. Do not misinterpret my generosity for weakness, for make no mistake, I _can_ be cruel."

She could feel Jareth's eyes turn to her, but she didn't acknowledge him. Her focus challenged Zalka's stare, unblinking until the goblin finally forfeited and looked to the floor in shame. The silence pulsed as she slowly returned to her seat with regal posture.

"That will be all for today", Sera said sweetly, yet with command. "We will deliberate further tomorrow on other matters. Jareth, will you measure and divide the lines between Odel and Zalka's properties?"

Her Trystian bowed respectfully and exited the room as others filed quietly out behind him, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She was angry, and the darkening skies outside reflected it. There would be a terrible storm soon if she did not calm her nerves. There was only one thing she knew of that could accomplish that mission successfully. Her sword hung in its sheath over the back of the thrown. She grabbed it and flung it over her shoulder, exiting the castle and out into the grassy fields far from the eyes of her people. Her fingers loosened her bodice and flung it aside. Breeze flowed through the freed fabric of her blouse, cooling her torso. Kicking her shoes aside, she pulled the middle of her long skirt up between her legs and tied it, creating a pair of makeshift pants. Her eyes closed. Her toes wriggled in the soft grass and she breathed in deep, relishing the scent of the earth beneath her.

 _['High Hopes' by Pink Floyd]_

The toll of the evening bell began to sing over the horizon. She swayed to it, finding its rhythm with her body. The temperature outside had dropped considerably since her outburst, and cold wind whipped through her long hair, sending it flying in all directions. Unsheathing her sword, she took a slow step back with one leg, bending at the knee with the front one. Her arms lifted the shining blade over her, and on the last beat of the bell, the dance began. She twirled and spun with her weapon, slicing, leaping, cutting through the air with gentle grunts and pants of breath. A warm glow beat softly against her face and she opened her eyes to see that setting sunlight had banished the swelling storm. Fluffy clouds glided through the pink sky, painted in hues of yellow and orange.

She noted something approaching in her periphery and glanced to her left to see Jareth returning from over the hill. His nod indicated the job had been done. She sighed and began her graceful therapeutic dance once more. When he was approximately twenty paces from her, Jareth tossed a crystal orb into the air. She watched as it transformed into a long sword on its descent. He caught it with a smirk and took a defensive stance. Smiling, she turned to him and held her weapon at the ready. Their eyes challenged one another for a long time, then he took the first swipe at her. She dodged it gracefully, spinning about to kick him in the butt and send him staggering forward. Swordplay was not his strong suit, but he possessed something she didn't. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed an orb at her face. It burst and showered her with glitter like in the goblin play. She laughed heartily and wiped at her face, dropping her sword onto the ground. His eyes widened as she ran at him, shouting and leaping onto his back. Her arms wrapped about his shoulders and she found purchase at his waist with her strong thighs.

"Gailan The Brave!" she yelled. He laughed and grabbed her beneath the knees, swinging her about in countless circles. "Jareth! I'm going to vomit!"

He tried to find footing, but had dizzied himself into a drunken teeter. Down they tumbled onto the tall soft grass, giggling like children. Sera rolled onto her back, clutching her abdomen. Jareth crawled over to her and buried his face into her neck, chuckling against her skin. She ran her fingers through his strawberry hair and turned her face to kiss his head, the laughter dying down in her chest. His had quieted to a heavy rising and falling of his chest as he caught his breath. Sera opened her eyes to the dimming sky. The stars were beginning to ignite their small blinking flames, and the pastel colors of the heavens were fading into a rich deep navy blue. Jareth grew very still beside her, their breathing slowing to match the same calm rhythm, her fingers still tangled loosely in his soft hair. Gradually, he began to lift his head. His cheek brushed gently against hers. She felt him hesitate. They both began breathing more heavily again. He continued moving. The corners of their mouths grazed lightly. Sera closed her eyes and subtly tilted her head toward his, their lips now hovering just barely apart.

Then he kissed her. Simultaneously they seemed to release the breaths they had been holding and they quickly became consumed by inextinguishable desire. His lips parted on hers and they deepened the act with the tangling of tongues. Their arms wrapped about each other, holding tight enough to hurt. He kissed so sweetly, and yet with an insatiable hunger that stole her breath away. Sera had had lovers many years ago, long before the war, before her military service. Not of them penetrated her mind and soul the way he did. Vows be damned, she would sacrifice everything to be with him.

Jareth's actions were becoming increasingly intense, bordering on frantic. It was like someone had twisted the valve to a contained system that was now depressurizing out of control. Sera followed his lead, desperate to feel every inch of his body, to know him even deeper than she already did, for him to know her. She wanted to be his and only his. Forever. Her fingers fumbled with the fabric at the base of his shirt, dragging it upward and exposing his back to the cool night air. Dragging her nails lightly along his flesh, she felt him arch and pant onto her lips. It seemed to push him even further over the edge, shattering the already paper-thin willpower that dampened his agonizing need for her. He reached down between them with one hand and began working at the knot holding her skirt together. It loosened and he jerked it apart, moving his lips to her jaw line, her neck. Gripping the collar of her blouse, he yanked it aside and bit down on her shoulder. Not hard, just enough to cause her to moan and arch her supine up against him. Her hands found their way to the strings of his pants as he continued to torture her sensitive flesh with his lips, teeth, and tongue.

The fabric came apart beneath her fingers and she struggled to work it down over his hips. His lips returned to hers as he reached down with one hand to assist her, pushing the pants down just below his ass. The end of her skirt was tugged upward to her waist and he shifted his body between her thighs, entering her without a moment's hesitation, like he would die if he wasn't buried deep inside her. A strangled moan passed between them and he immediately began working his hips against hers. She wrapped her legs about him, clawing at his back. His face moved to her neck, short desperate pants of hot breath beating against her skin. Rocking her pelvis to match his rhythm, she keened and mewled, trembling as the growing pleasure already began threatening to tear her apart. She could feel his body shaking, he was close. After centuries of abstinence, it didn't take much for either of them to fall over the edge into ecstasy. She fell first, dragging him easily over with her. Sera all but screamed, throwing her head back against the soft ground. Jareth grabbed her face with one hand, forcing his lips onto hers with a loud broken moan. A fine layer of sweat glistened on their skin, their bodies finally relaxing into post-coitus bliss together. They panted against one another's mouths, catching their breaths, neither one willing to part their heavy eyelids. Night had now completely fallen around them, enveloping them in darkness all but for the dim light of the crystal moon above.

Jareth kissed Sera's forehead, lingering for a moment before rising off of her to stand and readjust his clothing. She shakily came up to sitting and he reached down to help her stand. Silence passed between them as he re-tied her bodice for her. She collected her sword and her shoes, and they returned to the castle without a word.

 **In case you missed it (or you're just not a Bowie worshiper like myself), Jareth's physical appearance is David circa 'The Man Who Fell To Earth' movie (and/or the Low album). Haven't seen it? Well, you must! You'll have to order it from Amazon and have it special-made. That's what I did. And yes, his prior appearance was indeed Ziggy Stardust circa the 'Aladdin Sane' album.**


	11. The Ghost

Sera woke the next day alone in her large bed, her long ruffled night gown tangled about her legs. Jareth had walked her cordially to her room as he had every night for the past two centuries and retreated silently to his quarters. They had not spoken about their tryst in the field. He had also not come to waken her with song as she was accustomed to. Usually, he would sit just outside her door and play his stringed instrument, singing softly along to lyrics and scores he had skillfully written himself. She loved his voice. Why wasn't he singing?

Pushing the covers aside, she padded barefoot over to the door and cracked it slowly. Jareth stood just outside, leaning his back against the nearest wall, arms crossed into his chest. His gaze was focused onto the floor, neglecting to acknowledge her presence.

"Good morning", she muttered softly.

He nodded, eyes remaining stuck to the floor, "Breakfast, milady."

His strawberry hair was neatly brushed and there was a subtle darkness about his eyes.

"Thank you", she responded. "I'll…dress."

Closing the door, she paused to consider the awkwardness of their exchange. It had never been awkward in the past. She dressed into one of her many regal velvet dresses, which she secretly loathed, and met him in the hall. Her fingers worked at a few knots in her hair as she approached him, forcing a smile.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked. Jareth pushed his back up from the wall, leading the way down the hall without a word. Sera furrowed her brows and felt her heart sink into her stomach, feet working quickly to catch up to him. "Have I angered you in some way?"

Again he refused to look at her, "No, my queen."

She grabbed his wrist and pulled him to a halt, "Please don't treat me the way everyone else does, Jareth. I'm not your queen. I'm your friend." Finally his blue eyes found hers. He looked dreadfully exhausted, the redness of his eyes accentuated by the black liner along his waterline. A grayish shimmer covered each of his eyelids and another black line could be seen just within the hairline of the upper lashes. Trystians were known as chameleons of emotion. Their skin's pigment would easily adopt an artistic representation of their dominant psychological state by shifting color and treating their flesh as canvas. Jareth's face and body had been painted many times by the markings of his inner turmoil, bliss, rage, but she had never seen his brilliant mind reflected so negatively before. He was in pain. "Jareth, what's wrong?"

Her hand reached for his, but he quickly recoiled, averting his eyes from her again, "You _are_ my queen, and I'm sworn to protect you."

A pair of female voices echoed down the hall, nearing them from two conversing goblin maids rounding the corner. "We'll jus' be gatherin' yer linens, milady. Yer lookin' lovely today", one of them said as they passed. "Mornin', Sir Jareth."

He nodded shallowly, waiting for them to pass before taking his stride again. Sera jogged to catch up to him, "Please speak to me. Jareth, stop!"

Grabbing him by the arm, she tugged at him again. He spun about rather unexpectedly and yanked free of her grasp, "Don't you understand? I've practically killed you, Sera! I've committed an unforgivable act against you. I'm loathsome, selfish-"

"-Because you made love to me?"

His hand clasped firmly over her mouth, "Shh!" Looking frantically over both shoulders, he grabbed her beneath the arm and hustled her in through the nearest door, closing it behind him with a hushed voice, "We can _never_ speak of that, do you understand me? Never, Sera!"

She shook her head, tears were welling up in her eyes, "No, I don't understand."

He closed the distance between them, whispering secretively, "You took a solemn oath to devote your entire existence to this world. Your _entire_ existence. Did you not know what that would mean for you?"

"Yes, of course I did-"

"-Then you understand that our sins are punishable by death. They'll kill you, Sera! Because of me!"

"Who will?!" her voice rose to a shout as tears trickled along her cheeks. "Who? No one has been here in centuries, Jareth! We're forgotten here, abandoned. Don't you see that? No one will come, ever. We're alone and forsaken." Taking a deep breath, she collected herself and lowered her voice, cupping his cheek in her hand. "The only company we will ever share is each others. Is that so terrible we should suffer the end of our immortality for it?"

Taking her hand, he withdrew it from his face gently, "I won't be the cause of your demise, I couldn't bear it."

"Then be the cause of my happiness, for I do not fear death." Her words appeared to strike him like a slap to the face. He considered them for a long while, studying her eyes like they held some answer he was desperately seeking. "I love you, Jareth."

No further argument or hesitation passed between them, only the sound of their heady breathing and frantic kissing. He lifted her, carrying her across the darkness to lay her down upon a bed. It was only then that Sera realized that their secretive conversation had taken place in his bedroom down the hall from hers. The sheets had been pulled and tucked in military fashion, and their only light source came from a single burning candle upon his night stand. Clothes were abandoned quickly, finally allowing them to fully appreciate the sensation of bare flesh upon flesh. Hands and mouths roamed over sensitive soft tissue, stifling their growing moans of pleasure. The muscles of Jareth's lean build moved beautifully beneath his pale skin, contracting and relaxing to the rhythm of his writhing body as he made love to his queen. He took his time, satisfying her repeatedly before leaving her panting and naked beneath his spent sweaty body. Their limbs trembled about one another, fighting the urge to fall into blissful slumber together in their afterglow. With a considerable amount of effort, he finally rolled slowly off of her and rested lazily upon his back. She tucked herself against his side, feeling his arm come around her to pull her in close to him. Kissing her forehead, he breathed in the scent of her hair before laying his head back against the soft bed.

"Did you know it would be like this?" she asked drowsily, fighting sleep.

There was a long pause before he answered, "I cherished our friendship above anything else, but to say I had not thought of this once or twice would be fallacy."

"Once or twice?" she smirked.

"Give or take." Sera grinned, turning her head to kiss his moist chest. "I'd feel more at ease if we remained discrete. You make a valid point about our apparent abandonment, but should either of our kind bother to venture here again, I think it best the local people don't entertain them with stories of our… _activities_."

She nodded in agreement, much too tired to respond otherwise. It was likely in their best interest to keep their forbidden love affair under wraps anyhow as it could spread negative discourse amongst the people. Seraphina was regarded as a deity by most. The violation of her body's temple would not be taken lightly. Moments later, a knock at the door caused them both to leap up and scramble for their scattered clothing. "Housekeepin', Sir Jareth", came the voice on the other side.

"Ah…please, come back later", he called through the door, tying his pants quickly, "I'm…changing."

"As you wish, Sir."

The pair exchanged an expression of relief and waited a few more seconds before Jareth cracked the door to check the hall. When all was clear, they quickly exited his room and made their way to the dining hall, working hard to suppress their knowing smiles when their random glances happened to meet. His dark eye pigment had faded, and there was a subtle glimmer of white glitter-like sheen over his eyelids and cheeks. He was practically glowing. After a rather large breakfast in which both of them ate as though they hadn't seen food in days, Jareth joined Sera in the throne room for their usual daily routine beginning with the scheduled civil court. He stood at military rest by her side, stifling yawns as the proceedings carried on.

After three and a half grueling hours of petty arguments and settling personal debts amongst her people, the jury finally filed quietly out of the throne room and on with their days, leaving Sera and Jareth to theirs. With an exasperated sigh, he flopped down upon the bottom stair of the throne to rest his tired feet. Sera rubbed her sandy eyes beneath her fingertips and groaned.

"Excuse me", came a familiar voice from the archway. Sera froze in her seat, afraid that if she opened her eyes, the ghost of her friend might evaporate into thin air. "I have an important matter which requires attention of the queen and her guardian, please."

She felt Jareth stand quickly from his seat and opened her eyes. He rushed forward, scooping Gailan from the ground to spin her about in a strong embrace. Sera's throat was burning with emotion, her eyes tearing up with joy. Her friends laughed and danced about, becoming dizzy as he finally set her down and planted an adoring kiss upon her mouth. Gailan finally looked to her tearful friend, bowing to one knee respectfully, "My queen."

Sera leaped from her throne, tackling Gailan down upon the stone floor and rolling with her, crying and laughing heartily. She kissed her old friend's bald head and touched their foreheads together with a strangled whisper, "I thought you were a vision."

"I'm flesh and blood, old friend, and I've come with news."

Jareth reached down and helped each of them to stand with a broad smile. Gailan studied them both, her dark eyes scanning each of their features as her own smile began to fade.

"Is there some place we can all speak privately?" she asked with a glower, lowering her voice.

Minutes later, Sera pushed aside the heavy wooden door to the long-vacant war room. The hinges protested loudly, clouds of rust and broken cob webs sprinkling down in their path as the three newly reunited friends entered. A thick layer of dust covered the round table at its center where a map of the Ninth Kingdom rested in restful peace under the rule of its benevolent queen.

The door was closed tight and Gailan turned to her friends grabbing each of them by the head and ramming their skulls together, "Imbeciles!"

"Ouch! What the-"

"What in the name of-"

"Idiots! Lust-struck fools!" she continued over the flood of angry retorts coming from her friends who stood holding their injured heads. "Have you any idea how stupid you both are? Truly? I always knew one day it might be this way between you, but I thought your vows might be sufficient to keep your heads on your shoulders and out of your pants!"

Suddenly everyone in the room knew why Gailan was so upset. For a stone-cold warrior who typically kept her emotions buried beneath a steal exterior, it was almost frightening to see her uncoil in that manner. Jareth gave a defeated sigh, his eyes darkening nearly instantly as they lowered to the floor. Sera pretended to be unaffected, but faltered easily under the disapproving glare of her oldest friend.

"Sera", Gailan's voice softened, "you can be executed for this."

"I never wanted this!" Sera snapped, "This responsibility, this eternal curse. Gailan, I told you then that I couldn't do it. I told Kyan! No one would listen."

"It's too late for that now. What's done is done. You said your vows, and what's said is said."

"I love you", Sera pleaded. "It's been far too long, please let's not quarrel like this."

Gailan shook her bald head sternly, "Don't you understand the repercussions, Sera? Jareth?" He remained silent. "Your very soul is bound to this world. Surely you have noticed that much."

Sera sighed, turning to pace the room with her fists upon her waist, "When I cry it rains, when I seethe it storms. Yes I understand, Gailan."

"And if you birth a child?" The question stuck both Sera and Jareth so profoundly that they looked to one another. "The pain and anguish of your labor would be the destructive end of this entire kingdom, Sera. That's why your vows require that you _must_ remain chaste."

"But I can't bear children-"

"-You _can_. You shouldn't, but you can. They haven't taken that from you."

"Shit", Jareth cursed, running a hand anxiously through his red hair and pacing in the other direction. "Damn fool."

"Yes", Gailan confirmed. "You are."

Tears ran down Sera's pale face and the rain could be heard pit-pattering on the stone just outside, "So..So that's it, then. I just waste away in this hell for all eternity, mere inches from the man I love and forbidden to even touch him?" Jareth looked to her silently.

"Be glad you have him."

"Be glad? Be glad!" Thunder rumbled through the darkened sky.

"Sera", Gailan's voice was boarding on sympathetic, "I know how you must suffer. I know what your throne requires of you and that you never asked it for yourself. That makes you the most generous and selfless woman I have ever known. I know you hurt and that you are bitterly lonely. That's the reality of why they left Jareth here with you. They knew this task would be daunting, please don't take that for granted." Sera looked to her guardian who had not taken his eyes from her. His guilt was palpable, as was his resentment for the council. It appeared he was nothing more than a beautiful distraction. "But I do come bearing good news, if you have the mind to listen."

"I think it would do us all good to change the subject", Jareth muttered.

Gailan nodded, "Right, then." Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew something she kept concealed inside her fist with a grin. "Neither of you have bothered to ask how I arrived here. Would you care to know?"

Realization struck Sera and Jareth both dead center. Indeed, they hadn't considered for a moment how their friend had ventured safely into their world. Especially without the aid of a Trystian. Opening her hand, the petite woman revealed a glittering puddle of writhing black ooze. "It's a Trystian invention", she explained. "A prototype. Very few are in possession of it currently. I've been working as a hired scout for the council over the last century and a half. It allows me to pass through the wormholes between kingdoms without misdirection. I simply envision where I wish to go, and the energy takes me there. I've been tasked with scouting the Tenth Kingdom along with a Trystian male by the name of Talcanius. We've gathered a great deal of information about the world and its inhabitants. Exciting work."

Sera reached for the substance, expecting it to ripple like liquid beneath her fingertips. Instead, it resembled a pliable solid, much like the moldable mud-puddy goblin children would create with sand and clay. Gailan allowed her to take the stuff in hand, squishing and rolling it between her palms. It left no residue of soot color or glitter behind, yet if shaken, would bubble and spin like water in a glass bottle.

"The Tenth Kingdom is a misnomer, however." The scout continued, "We now know it is well beyond the reach of our own galactic kingdoms, and therefore, obeys other physical laws than our own. Scouts cannot remain present there for more than a few days unless…"

"Unless what?" Jareth asked.

"Unless we are born unto the world."

Sera's brows furrowed, "Born?"

"We must take on a physical body in mortal form, become one of its inhabitants at a cellular level. Only then can our presence remain for any appreciable amount of time."

"They're mortal, then?" Jareth added.

"Like your goblin clans. Only, their life spans are dramatically shorter. The average lifespan is approximately eighty years, give or take decade or two."

Sera and Jareth expressed their shock in unison, "Eighty years?"

"Like the beat of a heart in our world. To date, I've lived three lives in the Tenth Kingdom. Two of them were full life spans, one was cut short by disease."

"You can die, then?" Sera asked.

"Your mortal body will die, and so long as your immortal spirit is retrieved in time, your true form will resurrect as you were somewhere within the Nine Kingdoms. There are designated overseers of our missions who watch our every move, anticipating when we may need to be brought back from the mortal world. Unfortunately, this was discovered via trial and error. We lost some people, unsure where their material energies transferred upon their mortal deaths. It's pretty well perfected now, though."

"So", Sera was working the details over in her head, trying to understand them clearly. "you were able to travel here using this invention, and you may stay here as long as you wish." Gailan nodded. "But should you travel to the human world, you must…"

"I must be born of their energy. We have discovered the physical laws of their world dictate that energy cannot be created or destroyed as it can here, so in essence, I am using the energy of my genetic parents in order to become physical. I cannot simply materialize there as I can here."

"Why not?" Jareth inquired, taking the puddy in his hand to mold and toy with it.

Gailan shrugged, "We're not entirely sure just yet. All we know is their energy varies from our own somehow. We _look_ like brothers and sisters, but we could not be more different from one another at the cellular level. They're interesting creatures. With lives so short, they are constantly reminded of their own mortality. They live and feel every day as though it might be their last. They love, hate, and mourn more intense and profoundly than anything I could ever explain with words. Living amongst them, as one of them, has been a tremendous gift." Taking Sera's hand, she smiled at her. "Which is why I have brought this to you, my suffering queen. With this, you may visit the human world as a way of temporary respite from your demanding post."

Jareth seemed unconvinced and quite concerned, "But should she die-"

"-Of course I am suggesting the _temporary_ visitation." Gailan specified. "The one in which she may visit shortly and return within a couple of days. The catch is, you will not be able to interact with many of the humans. Some are more sensitive than others, and animals will sense your presence. But to most, you will simply be a ghost among them. When your time expires, you will return home safely and without risk."

"A ghost", Sera repeated solemnly.

Gailan sighed with a nod, "It's a start." Taking the puddy from Jareth's prodding fingers, Gailan placed it back into Sera's palm. "Would you like to give it a try?"


End file.
